How to Train Your Dragon: 2015
by Disneyanime91
Summary: A retelling of the popular movie, in a modern warfare sci-fi fantasy setting, with guns and bullets. Welcome to PMC Installation 83-RK "Berk". I am Lance Corporal Jack "Hiccup" Haddock. This is my story. Do R&R. -FINISHED-
1. This is Berk

**Chapter 1: This is Berk.**

This is Installation 83-RK "Berk". It's 12 clicks north of hopeless and a few degrees south of death from dehydration, and located solidly in the middle of the Afghan desert. My base camp. In a word, sturdy. It's been here for 20 years, yet every building is brand new. We have shooting, hunting and a charming view of desert sunsets.

The only problems are the pests.

While other camps have desert rats or cobras, we have…

Dragons.

Most people would leave. Not us. We're Mercenaries. We have… stubbornness issues. I'm Lance Corporal Jack Haddock, age 18, callsign 'Hiccup'. Not the best callsign a guy could have though.

Tonight's another regular night, with the dragon raid siren blaring loudly. They come for our food supplies, blasting away at our defenses with flames of various kinds. I grab my helmet and load-bearing vest from my locker after clumsily putting on my boots, rushing towards the armskote as fast as I can. Around me, anti-air guns fire away at the airborne reptiles, tracer rounds forming streaks of light in the night sky. A blast from a Gronckle narrowly misses me, hitting one of the bunks nearby and causing it to explode into flames.

See, new buildings all the time.

I run faster, almost falling into the magnesium flare of an incoming Nadder. I feel the heat singe my uniform as I am grabbed from behind by a burly arm before I am scorched.

"What is he doing here… what are you… Get back inside!"

That's General Stoick. He's the commanding officer and CEO of our Private Military Company (PMC). It's said that when he was 12 he blew the head off a dragon with a Desert Eagle pistol using only one hand and one bullet. Do I believe it?

Grabbing an RPG, General Stoick blows a Monstrous Nightmare out of the sky without even blinking.

Yes I do.

He turns to a reporting officer for an update on the situation, "What've we got?"

"Sir, scanners and spotters have identified at least ten groups of Gronckles and Nadders, as well as an entire squadron of Monstrous Nightmares."

"Any Night Furies?"

"Our sentries report none so far."

"Good."

Mobile flak guns, autoturrets and surface-to-air missiles are rolled out one after another from storage, amidst magnesium flares lighting up the sky to allow for easier target acquisition.

I finally reach my destination, meeting up with Staff Sergeant Gobber, a stout, yet experienced man with the battle scars to prove it. His left arm and right leg were lost in fights with dragons, each replaced with a bionic prosthetic. The one on his arm had interchangeable hands, allowing him to change tools to best suit his current job. I have been working under him ever since I was a little (well, littler) boy in this camp that I called home.

"Nice of you to join the party. I thought you would have been carried off," joked the Sgt. as he grabbed rifles, machine guns and launchers off the racks and distributed them to soldiers waiting across the counter.

"Who, me? Nah, come on, I'm waaaay to muscular for their tastes. They wouldn't know what to do with all… this…" I reply, gesturing to my… not so big… muscles… at least I think they are.

"Well, they need toothpicks, don't they?" I roll my eyes at the statement as I take out ammunition boxes, getting ready to hand out ammo belts and magazines.

Outside, the situation was getting a little too hot. The dragons had destroyed a number of our sentry towers and guns, breaking through our outer perimeter of defense. Unfazed, the General initiates the backup plans, "We move to the inner perimeter, then we counter with our Apache choppers and heavy Vulcan guns."

Meanwhile, a Nightmare has somehow managed to set fire to one of the fuel tanks across from where I am. Amongst panicked yells of "Fire!", soldiers quickly take cover behind available debris.

"Come on guys, let's go!" The emergency duty team rushes to the scene in the armoured firefighting vehicle and begins desperately hosing down the fire. Due to the lack of manpower, this non-combat section is composed mainly of younger recruits around my age who lack combat experience and skills. There's Private Fishlegs, a large-sized, overweight boy of 19, an innocent personality that's a little lacking in the courage factor; Corporal Snotlout, your typical 20-year-old jock character, arrogant without the skills to prove it, but muscular and a hit with the ladies; Lance Corporals Ruffnut and Tuffnut, fraternal twins with the most intense sibling rivalry I've ever seen; and finally…

The fuel tank blows up anyway despite their efforts, aptly casting a stunning glow and silhouette upon the section leader of the team. She had a slim figure with nicely defined muscles, silky blonde hair tied back in a single braid, and the most beautiful face I had ever seen.

3rd Sergeant Astrid Hofferson, 18, top cadet in her class, and the first to pass the dragon combat specialist's course amongst her, and my, batch of recruits.

I stand there with a dazed look in my eyes and a lopsided grin, thinking about how their job is so much cooler than mine, before I am brought back into reality by a waiting soldier, "Oy, where's my ammo?" Hurriedly, I grab the last magazine of rounds in the case and hand it to him, after which I attempt to sneak out of the armskote, SCAR-L assault rifle slung across my back, and an experimental device I intend to test out in tow. Alas, before I am able to successfully Splinter Cell my way out the door, Sgt. Gobber grabs me by the collar with his bionic arm (now equipped with a robotic claw to assist in distributing arms, though I don't know how).

"Aw, come on, let me out, sir. I need to make my mark!" I plead with him for what seems to be the thousandth time.

"No, son, you've made plenty of marks," he retorts, "All in the wrong places!"

"Please, just five mikes will be enough; I kill a dragon, my life gets infinitely better! I might even get promoted!"

Sgt. Gobber looks at me like I'm crazy. "You can't shoot straight with your rifle, you can't man an anti-air gun, you can't even handle one of these!" He gestures towards one of our self-developed dragon snare cannons, tripod-mounted automatic grenade launchers that were retrofitted to fire special chain-link nets in order to take down and capture airborne dragons without killing them. Each would be manned by a single gunner, and supposedly much skill wasn't needed to use it effectively when the sky was filled with dragons, as it is tonight.

"It's not my fault the stupid thing malfunctioned and trapped me instead! Anyway, this gadget here will fire it for me," I indicate the device I was taking along with me, and attach it to the cannon. Modified from a sentry minigun turret targeting system, this would trace dragon heat signatures via an infrared beam and fire the cannon automatically, taking into account distance, gravity, the target's trajectory and even wind velocity. It can't go wrong.

The cannon prematurely goes off and snares an unwitting bystander.

"See?! This here is what I mean!" He doesn't even give me a chance to explain, "Corporal, listen, if you ever want to get out there and fight dragons, you have to stop being all… this."

"You just gestured to all of me." At this point, I am already frustrated and highly irritated at the momentary failure of my device, and I didn't need any more annoyances.

"Yes. Stop being all of you. Now get back in there, soldier. There are men waiting for their ammo. Magazines, loaded, NOW." The Sgt. hands me a crate of 5.56 mm bullets and points at the box of empty magazines. I sigh and return to my original post.

One day, just you wait. One day, I'll get out there, because taking down a dragon means everything around here. Governments and private defense agencies aren't going to want to employ a contractor that can't even defend its base from flying reptiles. Even if the flying reptiles pack firepower rivaling a F-15 Strike Eagle. On a more direct front, we need to keep our food and fuel supplies secure; It's the middle of the desert, for crying out loud. It's hard enough trying to grow our own crops and livestock already, despite the use of advanced aeroponics and agrotechnology.

"Ugh, they need me out there. It's getting a little too hot out there." Sgt. Gobber detaches the claw and attaches a submachine gun modified for his bionic arm. Slinging a spare rifle over his back and grabbing a few extra magazines, he instructs me to stay put.

Yeah, like that's going to happen. Immediately after he is out of sight, I roll out my cannon again, taking my SCAR-L just in case. Weaving through an irritated group of soldiers, I yell out 'excuse me's and 'sorry's, while ignoring the calls for me to "Get back inside!"

I reach an elevated platform some distance away from the action, and activate my device. The laser beam casts a bright red line into the sky, scanning for bogies. I silently pray for something to shoot at, myself searching the darkness through the thermal scope of my rifle. Suddenly, I hear a distinct, piercing, high-pitched whistle, something like a cross between the highest note of a flute and the sound made by the afterburners of a fighter.

"NIGHT FURY!"

I duck as a sentry tower explodes in a brilliant blue explosion, distinctive of the powerful blasts made by this dragon. The shockwave is enough to knock surrounding soldiers off their feet, while others rush to find cover. This dragon has never been seen, only heard. It never misses. And has never been killed. That's why I'm going to be the first.

Another sentry tower blows up as another blast of plasma hits it. I realign my cannon, which was shaken from the blasts.

A beep emerges from the targeting device as it locks on to a heat signature. I hold my breath and pray that it works. After what seems like eternity, a single round is fired into the dark night sky. I hear the sound of metal chains hitting something hard, and an agonized roar. There is movement as my prey drops from the sky like a falling star.

"Yes! I hit it! Did anybody see that… aw come on…"

My joy instantly turns into a feeling of 'WHY ME?!' as I turn around to face a Monstrous Nightmare staring down at me.


	2. Meeting of Fate

**Chapter 2: Meeting of Fate**

My legs are moving as fast as they can, but the distance between me and death by dragon is rapidly closing. I am desperately firing away behind at the Nightmare with my rifle, but 5.56 rounds merely scratch its Kevlar-hard scales. It grows increasingly irritated with my futile attempts, finally reaching out and grabbing my gun with its razor-sharp teeth. I stand there, rooted to the ground against a wall in shock as it crunches the rifle into a mangled pile of metal and military-grade plastic. I cower… no, take cover, behind the supporting beams of a sentry tower. The dragon sees my hiding place and unleashes a fountain of hell-hot doom at it. The smell of burning kerosene gel is too close for comfort.

Finally, in what is going to be the last minute of my life, the dragon reaches its head around my cover and opens its mouth, readying its fireblast. Seems it wants me well-done.

Just then, the dragon is hit in its side by an explosion. I jerk my head in the direction it came from, and I see General Stoick tossing aside a smoking Anti-Tank Recoilless Rifle while reaching for his SPAS-12 shotgun. The dragon reels from the impact, and attempts to recover, shrieking madly. Leaping down from the ledge he was on, the General calmly empties the pump-action shotgun into the body of the Nightmare. Each round punches a shallow wound in its skin, driving it back. Sensing no other alternative it gives up its prey and flies away with an angry roar.

The sentry tower, now burning from top to bottom, collapses upon neighbouring structures, setting fire to one of our ammunition stores. In the ensuing chaos, several captured dragons escape, carrying away significant portions of our food supplies.

Oops.

I look at the General's face, grim and serious. I am so screwed.

"Sorry… Dad." Yes, he's my father.

"Corporal Hiccup, I want you in my office in half an hour."

"Yes, sir."

_Half an hour later._

"But I hit a Night Fury! It's not like the other times, maybe we can get a search party…"

"Stop! Just stop. Son, can you not see I have bigger problems? We are on the verge of going bankrupt, we haven't secured any contracts in the past half a year, and we're losing stores, equipment and valuable resources every time those damn lizards knock on our door! We can't even capture and harness enough dragons to sell off for cash because every time you step outside, disaster falls! Why can't you follow the simplest orders?" I could tell that his anger and frustration were reaching boiling point. I shuffled nervously on the spot. "Well, it's just who I am, Dad; When I see a dragon, I have to just… kill it, you know?"

Stoick sighs heavily, his palm on his forehead. "Son, you're… many things, but a dragon-killer isn't one of them. Get back to your bunk. I have your mess to clean up."

"Yes… sir." Resigned to my fate as the camp idiot, I trudge back with Sgt. Gobber behind me. Outside, I cringe, burning up from the stares I was receiving.

My bunkmates weren't particularly encouraging either. When I went in, all I got were cynical remarks and laughter.

"Nice going there."

"Seriously, I have never seen anyone screw up that badly before. Hah!"

I try to ignore them as I take off my vest and stow my replacement rifle (an old M-16A4 with M203 attachment) in the locker. Out of the corner of my eye, I see 3SG Astrid giving me a nonchalant look, before she returned to polishing her boots. I leave the room, unable to take the atmosphere any longer. Maybe I'll just grab a few winks outside 'cowboy style' today before the sun gets up.

On the roof of my bunk, in relative peace, I reflect upon my life so far.

My father never listens. And when he does, it's always with this disappointed scowl. I try to tell this to Sgt. Gobber too, and though he tries to console me, it never helps much. "Don't take it to heart. It's not what's outside that's got him irritated, but what's inside of you." Yeah, thanks for summing that up.

Never mind. I'll show him. After all, I really did hit a Night Fury.

My eyes light up at that idea. Why didn't I think of it? I'll just go find that downed dragon, kill it, and bring back proof that I did it! That'll show him. That'll show them all that I'm just as capable as they are!

Taking my USP pistol sidearm, combat knife, and mobile GPS system along with me, I sneak out of the camp through a little-known back door.

_Installation 83-RK, Battle Conference Room 1, 0800hrs_

"Either we finish them , or they'll finish us! It's the only way we will be rid of them." General Stoick's voice bellows across the table. On it is a large digital map of the surrounding areas around the installation. "If we find the nest and destroy it, the dragons will leave. We do one more search mission before the sandstorms begin."

"All due respect, it's suicide sir. Those we send on search missions never make it back in one piece. Its as if we're going up against the entire US air force! Even our most skilled pilots can't hold their own against more than three dragons at once, much less our land units." A Colonel doubtfully gives his opinion, echoing the sentiments of the majority of the officers present.

"It's an occupational hazard, Colonel. Didn't you read your job description? We set out at 0000hrs tomorrow."

Discontented murmurs fill the hall. The General sighs. He doesn't want to do this, but they forced him to, "Alright. This mission will be optional, but those who remain will look after the platoon of new recruits."

Hands shoot up as everyone volunteers their units for the mission.

"That's more like it."

As the officers file out of the room, General Stoick walks over to Sgt. Gobber, who is sitting there enjoying his can of beer. "Gobber, you're a good friend, I need you to stay back and train the new recruits."

Reluctant to be away from action, Gobber sarcastically replies, "Oh perfect, and while I'm away, Hiccup can look after the arms! C4 charges, gunpowder, a few grenades and missiles, what could possibly go wrong?"

"What am I going to do with him, Gobber?" Stoick sighs, shoulders slumping in disappointment and frustration.

"Put him in the dragon combat specialists course. Let him train with his platoon."

Stoick gives Gobber the 'Are-you-crazy?' look. "No, I'm serious."

"So am I!"

"He'll be killed before you let the first dragon out of its cage."

"You don't know that," Gobber retorts.

"Yes I do."

"No you don't! Look, you can't stop your son, you can only prepare him. I know it's hard, but you won't always be around to protect him. He's going to get out there again; Heck, he's probably out there now!"

Stoick turns away and silently collects his thoughts. Maybe Gobber is right. Maybe he should give his own son a chance.

_Two miles east of Installation 83-RK, 0900hrs_

My GPS map is full of red marks, indicating negative results of my search. The past two hours have been a fruitless search, but I swear the dragon I hit fell in this direction. I sigh and expand my seach radius, pocketing my GPS. Really, the gods must hate me. Some people lose their bayonet, some lose their pistol, I managed to lose an entire fifteen-foot long flying reptile! I kick at the ground in irritation, and my foot meets with pain, even though I am wearing tough leather combat boots.

I double over and clutch my foot, cursing at my bad luck, and it is at this moment that I notice hard protrusions from the ground… old pipes? This must have been an abandoned settlement… I look around the ruins more closely, and I notice an empty two-storey buiding, with what seems to be a fresh hole bored right into its side. Curious and scared at the same time, I venture into the ruins, pistol drawn and cocked just in case. There is a trail of destruction leading from that hole, as if something had just punched a straight line through the entire settlement, right into the middle of it. I climb to the second storey of the building to get a better look, and to maybe see what had caused this. The sight catches my breath, and I froze from a combination of fear and awe.

There, wrapped in a chain-link net, lying unmoving in an oasis that had somehow formed here, was a large, black Night Fury.


	3. Downed Dragon

**Chapter 3: Downed Dragon**

_Abandoned settlement, 3.2 km east of Installation 83-RK, 0915hrs_

I cautiously peek my head over the broken wall I am hiding behind. The downed dragon is unmoving, seemingly unconscious, if not dead. Slowly I make my way down to the oasis towards the black mass. Its jet-black scales glisten under the morning sunlight. The sight is breathtaking, and would have been picture-perfect, if not for the fact that it was a dead dragon. I approach, pistol aimed squarely at where the dragon's heart should be.

I realise that would be a useless move, as 9mm rounds would do nothing to wound, or even harm the dragon. Sighing, I holster my pistol and unsheath my knife. Maybe it would work better.

Maybe I should have at least taken a shotgun before coming here, and I mentally kick myself at this stupidity.

My thoughts return to the Night Fury body now lying in front of me. Forgetting myself in this moment of triumph, I exclaim, "Yes! I finally did it! I have brought down this mighty beast... Aah!"

A deep rumble startles me, causing me to fall backwards onto the ground. It wasn't dead yet!

Stirring, the beast opens its large eyes. They are bright yellow with midnight-black pupils, a cross between the eyes of a snake and those of a cat. And they're trained on me.

Swallowing my fear, I raise my blade, readying myself for the final strike, ready to pierce its cold-blooded heart.

"I'm going to kill you, dragon. I'm going to kill you, and cut out your heart, and bring it to my father. Yes... I'm a soldier... I'm a soldier!"

Those bright eyes cast a piercing gaze... I look at it, and suddenly I feel strange. That's not a look of anger, or ferocity. I sense no ferocity, none at all, strangely. It's a look I would never imagine such a fearsome creature could have.

It's an expression of fear. Utter, cold fear.

I shut my eyes, trying to shut out that image. I try to bring down the blade, but my arms refuse to move. It's as if there were some great force resisting and holding me back. I struggle against it to no avail.

Then a realization hits me. I can't do this.

Sheathing my knife back into my belt holster, I sigh and turn away. "... I can't kill a dragon..."

Before I can walk away, my conscience pulls me back. "No, I did this."

The Night Fury is still held down, grounded by the steel chain net. My knife won't be enough to release it. I cock my pistol, and fire some well-placed shots, taking care not to hurt the creature any more. The chains break open, loosening the net's hold on the dragon.

Big mistake.

The air is knocked out of me as I am slammed against a half-broken wall, and my knife is thrown out of my reach. Razor-sharp claws pin my neck to the brick surface, mere millimeters from slicing open my jugular vein. The hot dragon breath flows down the front of my face. I am unable to think, my mind is a blur as my uneventful life flashes in front of me.

The dragon rears its head, baring its fangs as its mouth opens. Oh god, this is it. I shut my eyes, anticipating a hopefully painless and merciful death.

A loud, deafening roar fills my ears, and I feel wind across my face. The Night Fury releases its hold on me, and flaps its great black bat-like wings, flying off between the ruins. It slams against a building, causing it to crumble and collapse, probably an accident on its part. I can no longer think straight, my mind a mess from the shock and relief at what just happened.

My legs give way, and I collapse on the sandy floor. All goes black.

* * *

_Installation 83-RK, 1900hrs_

I finally regained consciousness under the heat of the midday sun. The day passed relatively quickly, after I was chided by Sgt. Gobber for being late for store duties. Before I knew it, it was evening.

As I entered my bunk, I received a call from my father's office. He wanted to see me; a common occurrence, actually. It would either be because I had screwed up badly, or because I had screwed up REALLY badly. This was perfect timing, actually, as I needed to speak with him about something too. As I walked out, 3SG Astrid rolled her eyes and gave me a look that said 'What is it this time?'

I sheepishly grin and exit the room before she can notice my blush. I know she's my platoon commander, but I can't help but notice every time how beautiful a girl she is. It's tough being near the person you have had a crush on since you were eight.

Shaking away thoughts of fluff and romance, I knock on the door to the General's office. His tone is serious as usual. "Come in, Hiccup."

Why even my dad calls me by my callsign, I don't know.

"Son, there's something I need to talk to you about."

"Same here, sir."

Taking a deep breath, I voice out my thoughts, "Dad, I don't want to fight dragons."

Only to have it come out together with my father's, "Son, I'm going to let you fight dragons."

"What?" we said in unison, surprised.

I decided to let my father go first, out of respect. "Alright son, you got your wish. Dragon training. You join your platoon tomorrow morning under the tutelage of Sgt. Gobber."

Oh boy, I should have gone first.

"Um, Dad, I was thinking, we do have a surplus of dragon-fighting soldiers, but… er… do we have enough… uh, vehicle maintenance people or building repair soldiers…"

"You're going to need this," He completely ignores me, again. He hands me a fireproof training shield and an M1014 semi-automatic combat shotgun.

"Dad, all due respect, but I don't want… no, I can't kill dragons!"

"But you will kill dragons!"

"Dad, I'm pretty sure that I won't," This was turning into a very one-sided conversation… as always.

"It's time, Hiccup." He's quite determined about this, I can tell. But doesn't he realize that I really can't do this?

"Can you not hear me…"

"This is SERIOUS, son. When you carry that shield and gun, you carry all of us with you. Which means you walk like us, you talk like us, and you think like us." This is going nowhere in my favour. By now, I have given up and am resigned to my destiny to be dragon chow.

"Deal?"

"Sir, I…"

"DEAL?!"

I give a reluctant sigh, "Deal."

"Good. Train hard, train smart. I will be leaving on a mission tonight at 0000hrs." The General gives a contented look, and pats my shoulder in encouragement. He picks up his vest and armaments. "I'll be back, if all goes smoothly."

"Yes, sir. And I will still be around. Maybe." I reply semi-sarcastically, as he exits the office.

He never listens.

* * *

Back in my bunk, all my platoon mates are already asleep. Tomorrow would be the beginning of my platoon's dragon combat specialists' course. 3SG Astrid, having already passed it, would be taking it as a refresher course instead. The shotgun feels particularly heavy, and not because it was made of metal. The hopes of my father rested in my hands, in this gun. It's too much, too heavy for me.

I look out the window at the search troops preparing their gear and vehicles for the mission. If all went as per normal, less than half the force would make it back. I heave a sigh again and try to go to sleep. I would need all the rest and luck I could get for tomorrow.


	4. Dragon Training

**Chapter 4: Dragon Training**

_Installation 83-RK, Dragon Combat Training Area, 0600hrs  
3SG Astrid Hofferson_

"Welcome to the Dragon Combat training complex."

Ahead lay a familiar expanse of land a half-hour's drive by truck from the installation. At least, familiar to me. I have been through the gates of these grounds a number of times, all in the duration of my DCSC. I graduated tops in that class, granting me an early promotion and the command of my own platoon. It's a small section of only five non-combat personnel, compared to those helmed by older, more experienced specialists and officers. These four boys and one girl don't have any combat experience, and still aren't skilled enough to be deployed for the missions we carry out as a PMC. They can't work together, one is aways trying to hit on me, and another is too geeky and innocent. The siblings are always at each others' throats, and the last one is... indescribably odd. Nevertheless, I am still responsible for them, and I plan to lead them to the best of my ability. Which is why I jumped at this chance to endow upon them at least a fighting chance against the pestilence upon us - those damned dragons.

It's a hot day. I am dressed in a black midriff-baring tank top along with pixelised camouflage long pants and black steel-toed boots. A red and gold headband, a gift from my mother, holds up my fringe. I jump down from the back of the truck carrying my platoon holding my two trusty P90 submachine guns in my gloved hands, fireproof training shield slung on my back. Magazine and grenade pouches hang from my utility belt.

"No turning back, guys."

So far, they seem rather excited about this.

"I hope I get some serious burns." "I'm hoping for some mauling, like on my shoulder and lower back." Those twins sure have some issues. I reply sarcastically, "Yeah, it's only fun if you get a scar out of it."

"Yeah, no kidding, right? Pain, love it." I turn to look at the source of the reluctant voice, the last, lagging member of the group. Hiccup had always been different from most of us. An idealistic boy, he had always been one to challenge orders if he felt they went against his beliefs, and many times I have had to take him in for disciplinary actions. His dad is the CEO, but it somehow seems that he can never fit into this environment. Despite having observed him since young (we are of the same age) I can never understand his way of thinking. The shotgun in his hands seems out of place with his thin frame.

"Ugh, who let him in, anyway?" Tuffnut rolls his eyes and looks condescendingly at Hiccup.

Sgt. Gobber's voice breaks the awkward silence, "Alright, let's get started. This time, the course is special. The trainee that does best will gain not only a promotion, but also the honour of killing his first dragon in front of the whole camp." Wow, this is new, might be interesting.

"Hiccup already killed a Night Fury, so does that disqualify him?" Snotlout's remark draws snickers from the rest of the group. I could tell Hiccup was getting uncomfortable; he was probably already screwed over pretty badly by his father for that incident two days ago.

"Don't worry, you're small and weak; That makes you less of a target. The dragon will see you as sick or insane, and go after the stronger trainees instead," Sgt. Gobber tries to lighten the mood, but I can tell Hiccup isn't feeling any better. I sigh at the poor boy and turn away, getting ready for the lesson, loading my empty magazines with rubber bullets supplied for training; the objective here was not to kill the dragon, just to force it into submission. Shotguns would be using anti-riot sandbag rounds instead of the usual buckshots. I also take a couple of flashbang grenades. Those would be useful.

The training course today was a basic lesson, but an important one. We assembled at the centre of the simulated battlefield. A simple area, mostly flat with some semblances of cover in the form of rocks, walls and some foxholes. Sgt. Gobber communicates with us through microphone headsets issued to us.

"Within these grounds are just a few of the species you will learn to fight." His voice crackles over the radio waves, through static. "The Deadly Nadder,"

"Speed 8, Armour 16." Oh man, here we go again. PTE Fishlegs was, to put it in appropriate terms, a 'dragon otaku'. He was a complete geek when it came to stuff like this, and he never hesitated to let his obsession with the subject be known.

"The Hideous Zippleback..."

"Stealth times 2"

"The Monstrous Nightmare..."

"Firepower 15"

"The Terrible Terror..."

"Venom 12"

"WILL YOU STOP THAT?" Sgt. Gobber's irritation is very evident. I am thankful for that. "And, the Gronckle."

"... Jaw Strength 8" I roll my eyes as I hear him say it under his breath in a whisper.

"Dragon release in 6 seconds."

Snotlout, startled as he is, begins to panic at the prospect of facing the creature without preparation. "Wait! Aren't you going to teach us first?!"

Chuckling, Sgt. Gobber replies to that, "I believe in learning on the job."

Just as he finishes the statement a hidden door bursts open to reveal a very angry Gronckle, roaring and making a beeline for the nearest trainee. Adrenaine pumps through my veins as I recall the heart-pounding excitement from the first time I did this. The platoon scatters, everyone running off in different directions. I stay calm, avoiding the dragon's attacks with rolls, somersaults and leaps. Every few moments, I let fly bursts of fire from my SMGs.

"Today's lesson is on survival. If you get blasted, you're out! What's the first thing you need?" Sgt. Gobber is giving his lecture through the intercom. An unusual. but effective teaching method.

In a state of panic, everyone screams answers into their headsets, "A medic?!" "+5 Speed?"

Damn, these guys can't work under pressure. I calmly give the correct answer, "Cover from fire!"

"Correct! The first thing you acquire when facing a dragon is cover! If given a choice between a weapon and taking cover, take cover! Anything sturdy should do, like your fireproof shields, or a rock wall."

In a single swift motion, I unsling the transparent kevlar shield off my back, and plant it firmly in the ground such that it formed a sturdy upright wall. I duck behind it and reinforce it with some bricks I found conveniently lying around. Looking around to check the status of my platoon, I notice Ruffnut and Tuffnut bickering over which supplied shields to use; they didn't bring one, for some stupid reason or another.

"Hands off! Get your own shield!"

"There's, like, a million shields there!"

"Take that one, it has flowers on it. Girls like flowers."

I cringe as Ruffnut, piqued by the comment, slams the shield against her brother. "Oops. Now this one has blood on it."

Before Tuffnut can react, a stray fireball hits the shield, shattering it and knocking the twins off their feet. Dazed, they can only utter a stunned "Huh?" as they are declared 'Out' over the intercom.

"Taking cover is useful for another reason – You need to hide behind something to prevent yourself from getting blinded by your own flashbang grenades. Use those to throw off a dragons aim!" Upon those instructions, we grab the flashbangs issued before. Pulling out the safety pin, I cook the grenade for a couple of seconds before tossing it. I shut my eyes and cover my ears, yelling at my platoon mates to do so as well.

The grenade goes off in front of the Gronckle – perfect timing. Distracted and disoriented, the dragon is pelted by shots fired from the remaining four of us. Meanwhile, Sgt. Gobber continues his lesson, "All dragons have a limited number of shots. How many does a Gronckle have?"

"Five?" Snotlout attempts an answer.

"No, six!" The dragon otaku gets it right again.

"Right! That's one for each of you!" As if knowing the implications of what was just said, the dragon fires a ball of fire at Fishlegs, blasting away his cover and leaving him open. Screaming, Fishlegs runs towards the emergency exit as he is also declared 'Out'.

I groan. This is not going well at all.

Another shot narrowly misses Hiccup as he tries to move out from the cover he was hiding behind all this while. "Hiccup! Get out there!"

I run into Snotlout as I leap over from my current cover to another more suitable spot across from where I am.

"Hey, Sarge, my parents just set up a gym in their basement…"

NOW'S REALLY NOT THE TIME.

"You really should come over and work out. You look like you work out…"

I ignore his pathetic attempts and vault over the low wall. Lucky for me, because the Gronckle had just blasted a hole where I was, taking Snotlout out of the session as well. I find myself standing next to Hiccup. Two shots left. "Well, it looks like it's just you and me, Sarge."

Nope, just you.

I duck and run as Hiccup's fireproof shield is knocked out of his hands by another fireball. One shot left.

Hiccup panics and runs for the side of the training area. The Gronckle manages to catch up with him, cornering him against the hard steel wall.

"Hiccup!" I hear Gobber yell into the intercom as the Gronckle prepares its last shot, one that would be point-blank in Hiccup's face. Realising the gravity of the situation, I take aim with my gun and let loose a continuous burst of fire, emptying my magazine at the beast. I manage to knock it back enough for its last shot to miss Hiccup by mere inches.

Sgt. Gobber and the dragon handlers are, by now, at the scene and are working to force the dragon back into its enclosure. "Go back to bed, you overgrown sausage! You'll get another chance…"

The steel doors slam shut on the dragon's cage. I heave a sigh of relief that all of us got out of this one alive. At this point, Sgt. Gobber drills his final lesson for today into our heads while helping Hiccup back on his feet, pausing for dramatic effect.

"Remember, a dragon will always, ALWAYS, go for the kill."

The smoking crater next to where Hiccup now stood made that statement seem so much more ominous than it already is.


	5. The Dragon Manual

**Chapter 5: The Dragon Manual**

_Ruins 3.2km east of Installation 83-RK, 1200hrs  
LCP Jack "Hiccup" Haddock_

"Remember, a dragon will always, ALWAYS, go for the kill."

Those words stick in my head, hanging there like a dark cloud that just wouldn't go away. Something about it troubled me deeply, even after my close shave at the training complex. It was only thanks to the quick actions of my platoon sergeant that I am still relatively unscathed now.

I return to the oasis in the ruins under the head of the midday sun, intending to confirm my suspicions. Crouching down, I stare at the broken chains of the net that still remain here, rusting away in the sand. I run my hand across the steel and voice out the question that has been burning in my mind the whole time, to no one in particular.

"So why didn't you?"

I advance through the ruins, climbing up to the third storey of an abandoned building to get a better view. Secretly I was hoping that I could maybe catch a glimpse of the Night Fury again. The small lake that had formed in the middle of the empty complex probably came about from some hidden underground reservoir that broke open during the last rainy season five months ago. Around it grew scarce desert vegetation between collapsed structures and dusty buildings.

Scanning the area, I see nothing despite my elevated position. Mentally kicking myself for not realizing that the dragon had probably already flown far away after I had released it, I mutter to myself, "Well, this was stupid…"

A glint catches my eye. Looking in its direction, I notice a number of small, dark, shiny objects on the floor. They form a crooked line like a join-the-dots puzzle meant to show you nothing. Picking one up, I notice its glass-like properties, hard yet brittle. They are dark purple in colour, not different from the colour of human blood low in oxygen. Could these be…?

A roar and a gust of wind startles me, and I fall back in shock. A dark mass hits the wall outside, and I realize what it is. Quickly, I retreat into the shadows, moving into a vantage point where I could see what was going on.

The great dragon scrambles at the wall, its wings flapping desperately to lift its weight into the air. Failing to do so, the Night Fury falls and hits the ground with a loud thud. Growling, it tries again. And again. Once, it manages to hover for a couple of seconds, before falling. All this time, I am watching in awe through the hole in the wall which I am hiding behind. From my knowledge, no one had ever seen a Night Fury and lived to tell the tale, much less describe what it looked like. And here I was, observing the most dangerous and elusive of all dragons.

Grabbing the handheld camcorder I brought along, I begin recording the dragon's movements. I also snap a couple of shots with my cellphone camera (on silent mode). This was going to be an amazing find for the dragon documentation personnel back at camp, though I wasn't sure what my dad would do if he found out I had been doing this. But I found this behavior extremely odd.

Why don't you just… fly away?

The dragon blows a hole in the ground with his plasma blast in obvious frustration. This is when I notice something wrong with the dragon's tail fin, shaped not too differently from that of a fighter jet. Only the right side was present, and the left fin was strangely missing. I realize what the tinted glass plates on the ground were.

Dried dragon blood.

Assuming the tail fin works the same way as that of a plane, the dragon can't fly. It won't be able to steer at all, and it would be near-impossible to keep balance.

I gaze in anticipation as the Night Fury tries one more time. As expected, it smashes headfirst into the hard ground once again, kicking up a small cloud of dust and sand. It gives an agonized roar, and what seemed to be a sigh. Giving up, it dejectedly crawls over to the oasis, and takes a drink.

In what seems to be an act of God aimed at disrupting the tranquility, I drop my camcorder.

"Shit!"

The sound attracts the dragon, but it does not attack. Gazing up at where I stand, it looks at me with its feline-reptilian eyes. Its ears twitch as it cocks its head to one side.

It recognizes me.

* * *

_Installation 83-RK, Canteen, 1900hrs  
_

I had cleared up the training grounds of empty bullet casings, as it was my turn to do so today after the afternoon training session; or rather, because everyone else left before I did. Noticing the pickup in wind speed and strength, I hastened my way into the canteen, before the sandstorm begins.

"Alright, where did Astrid go wrong during the course this afternoon?" Sgt. Gobber is conducting the after-action review, according to DCSC protocol, to assist in identifying our mistakes, while going through again the lessons taught during the day.

"I mistimed my somersault dive. It was sloppy, threw off my reverse tumble, delaying my reflexes, and leaving me open to fire. I wouldn't have been able to draw my guns out and take aim fast enough. In other words, I would have been dead in a real combat situation." 3SG Astrid is hard on herself, as always. I suppose it's her way of motivating herself to keep improving

"No, it was great! That was so you, Sarge!" Snotlout, as usual, tries to strike up conversation with her, but failing terribly again as she rolls her eyes at him. Sgt. Gobber disagrees with him, "She's right, you have to be tough on yourselves! Where did Hiccup go wrong?"

Oh great, it's my turn to get picked on. I take my tray of rations and move to the next table; The only remaining place was next to Snotlout, and there is no way in Hell that he's going to let me sit next to him. Not that the feeling isn't mutual.

"Uh, he showed up?" "He didn't get eaten?" I swear, those twins are either at each others' throats, or at mine.

"He's never where he should be." Trust the Sarge to be the only one who can give constructive criticism

"Thank you, Astrid. You need to live and breathe this stuff. There's no way you will be able to take on dragons without knowing them through and through." Sgt. Gobber takes out a folder bearing a 'Restricted' classification. "This contains all the files and directives we have on dragons. Statistics, behavioural patterns, and what to do when faced with one. Everything we know on every dragon we know of."

A low rumble is heard, coming from outside the building. Slowly it builds up to a soft roar, as the sandstorm increases in intensity. Sgt. Gobber calls off the night training session, "No attacks tonight. Study up."

"Wait, we have to read?!"

"While we're still alive?!"

My platoon mates didn't see this coming, it seems. As battle-hungry, adrenaline-fueled individuals, they would rather kill the stuff books tell you about than read about them. Telling them to study is like a death sentence to them.

Except Fishlegs. "Oh, I've read this file, like, seven times! There's this water dragon, that sprays boiling water at your face; and there's this other one …"

Tuffnut interrupts him before he can continue, thankfully, otherwise he would have rambled on and on. Only Fishlegs could be so enthusiastic about the subject. Voice dripping with sarcasm, "Yeah, that sounds great. There was a chance I was going to read the file, but now…"

"You guys read, I'll be at the indoor range."

"There's this other one with spikes, and scales that can take a ballistic missile, and…"

One by one, they leave the table, making their way out of the canteen. We were stuck in this complex, at least until the sandstorm subsided to safe levels. Those engineers are going to have a field day cleaning the dust out of the tank barrels.

Making my way over to the table where 3SG Astrid was sitting, can of Cola in hand, I stutter out, "So… I, I guess we'll just, uh… share…"

"Read it." Well that was quick.

Shoving the file over to me, she gets up and walks off. I am left standing there, talking like an idiot to myself, "Ah… uh… All mine then, wow, so , uh, okay, ah, so I'll see you… tomorrow…"

* * *

_Library, 2000hrs_

Taking the file with me, I move to the library. It would be quiet here, as few people actually do come here. I would at least be alone, giving me time to slowly read through the pile of documents.

Datasheet D-01, dragon classification system – Strike class, fear class, mystery class, stealth class… Each class had its own specific capabilities and properties, and each had to be dealt with in a different way. Not bothering to go in to technical details, I skip ahead a few sheets to the dragon data files. These detailed the characteristics and behaviours of each dragon, complete with diagrams and pictures.

No. 25 – Genus _Draconia, _Species_ Megatromma_, Common Name "Thunderdrum"  
Land of origin – Norway  
This reclusive dragon inhabits sea caves and dark tide pools. When startled, it emits a sonic boom that can kill a man at close range. Easily detectible on sonar, the most effective method of attack is to take it down from long range. Missiles are ineffective due to the sonic boom.

Threat level Omega, kill on sight.

No. 55 – Genus _Draconia_, Species _Skarpeala_, Common name "Timberjack"  
Land of origin – Tibet  
Its wings are razor-sharp, and can slice through fully-grown pine trees, and even through bulletproof steel. Upon capture, its wings are prized in East Asia as a material for ornamental swords. Detectable by radar. Recommended method of attack is to ground it first with attacks from above. If capture is desired, sedate heavily and remove wings.

Threat level Omega, kill on sight.

No. 74 – Genus _Dragonita_, Species _Tangreshui_, Common name "Scaldron"_  
_Land of origin – China  
This dragon sprays scalding-hot water of up to 100˚C on its victim, instead of the usual flame produced by most other dragons. When facing this dragon, always have a medical team on standby. Draw it away from its water source, and stay under cover until its individual reserves dry out, after which it should be rendered less dangerous.

Threat level Omega, kill on sight.

My God.

No. 110, Changeling. Even newborns can spit concentrated hydrochloric acid. Threat level Omega, kill on sight.

_D. Snotepeau _"Gronckle", _D. Cerberius_ "Zippleback", _D. Exokevlaris _"The Skrill", _D. Beinagrind _"Bonenapper", _D. Audiomortis _"Whispering Death"…

Blinds its victims, buries its victims, chokes its victims, turns its victims inside out…

Threat level Omega, threat level Omega, threat level Omega…

Kill on sight, kill on sight, kill on sight…

Oh God. I am so screwed. By now I am skimming through the documents and directives. I'm not looking at the details and already I am scared shitless. At least before this I had hoped for a small chance against dragons with technological superiority and advanced ballistics… but now I think all hope is pretty much lost in my case.

I reach a sheet of paper that is empty, save for the bold heading and a few lines of text.

No. 151 – _Draconis Noctofuriens_, Common name "Night Fury"  
Land of Origin – First sighted in Japan, but suspected population extends across the globe.  
Vital Statistics – Unknown  
Japanese legend calls it the unholy offspring of a Shinigami (God of Death) and an Inazuma (Lightning) spirit. When confronted with this dragon, engage Protocol "Whiskey" and follow Directive D-36 once withdrawal from the area is complete.

Threat level Omega-X, do not engage at all costs.

Taking out my cellphone, I open the images that I took earlier today. Strangely, no matter how apt it sounded, the description just didn't fit what I saw in my pictures.


	6. Disillusion

**Chapter 6: Disillusion**

_500 km northeast of Installation 83-RK  
20 hours into Search Mission Delta_

The formation of mobile artillery, battle tanks and light troop transport vehicles move swiftly across the desert plains, leaving in its wake a cloud of dust and sand. Leading the formation at the front is a M1A1 Abrams battle tank commandeered by General Stoick himself, emblazoned with the text '83-RK ALPHA CHIEF' in white paint. Standing in the entry port with helmet on, the General scans the area in front with his tactical binoculars. He signals for the battalion to halt its advance.

Just ahead lay a dense fog, one that seemed to form a wall of dust.

Examining the GPS system he had in his hands, the General consults with his second-in-command. The area in front would be difficult to navigate, but it is almost certain that the dragon's nest lay within. As long as the formation stayed in sight with each other, they should be able to remain intact until they hit the jackpot.

"I can almost smell them, they're close." Taking a deep breath, the General gives the command, "Take us in. Stay in formation, stick close. Remember your positions and keep units around you in sight. Maintain radio comms at all times. Our unit tracking system won't work here, there's mild electromagnetic interference."

One by one, the vehicles gradually disappear into the thick fog. All is silent, except for the low roar of motors and tank treads.

Suddenly, there is a flash of orange and yellow, as a vehicle blows up. Through the fog, the light casts an ominous shadow. The rattle of machinegun fire follows as the counterattack begins.

* * *

_Installation 83-RK, Dragon Combat Training Area, 1200hrs  
3SG Astrid Hofferson_

Same shit, different day. I dash between the streets of the simulated apartment complex, decked out in my usual battle gear, save for the silencers that were now attached onto my submachine guns for today's purposes. Normally used for Close-Quarters Battle training, the location had been modified for the DCSC today, by the removal of the roofs of all the buildings. Somewhere in this area, Sgt. Gobber had released a Deadly Nadder. The primary objective today is to track it and take it down.

"Hey, you know, I just happened to notice, the file didn't have anything on Night Furies. So is there another file, or a sequel, or maybe a little Night Fury annex or pamphlet… Whoa!" A shot from the dragon catches Hiccup off guard in mid-sentence. Sgt. Gobber chides him over the intercom, "Focus, Hiccup! You're not even trying!"

Strangely, he's been going on and on about the lack of data on Night Furies ever since yesterday. It's almost irritating, but I can see where he's coming from. It's troubling to fight something you can't see, and don't know anything about.

The Nadder flits across the training ground, perching on the tops of walls and firing away with its magnesium-based flare, as Sgt. Gobber explains the objectives for today. "Today's lesson is all about attacking your target. Nadders are quick and light on their feet. The only way you're going to land a hit on it is to be quicker and lighter."

Spotting Fishlegs, the Nadder extends its retractable tail spikes and sends them flying at him like throwing knives. Over the intercom, I hear him yell in fear as the spikes pierce his fireproof shield, "All due respect, sir, I'm really beginning to question your teaching methods!"

Ignoring him, Sgt. Gobber continues, "Look for its blind spot; Every dragon has one, it's important to find it, hide in it, then strike, especially in close-quarters situations with little space for you to fire from a distance away."

The twins seem to have found it, as I observe them from my hiding spot. Despite having run into the spot just below the Nadder's nose, they aren't spotted by it.

"Ugh, when was the last time you took a bath?" I hear Ruffnut complain through my headset.

Jesus, here we go again.

"Don't like it? Go get your own blind spot."

"How about I give YOU one?!"

The Nadder finally realizes their existence, and unleashes another flare right at them. Fortunately they escape in time, and it only singes their uniforms.

"Blind spot, yes; Deaf spot… Not so much. Hehe…" Sgt. Gobber laughs at his own bad joke, while I sigh at my platoon's ineptitude. Meanwhile, Hiccup isn't giving up on his quest for knowledge, "Hey… hey, so how would one sneak up on a Night Fury?"

"No one's every met one and lived to tell the tale, NOW GET IN THERE!" His irritation at Hiccup is more than evident now. "I know, I know, but hypothetically…"

"Hiccup… Shh!" Noticing him behind me, I motion to him to keep silent. The Nadder was just beyond the corner of the wall I was hiding behind, and I didn't need it to notice my presence there if I was going to get near it. Holding up a clenched left fist, I give the sign for Hiccup and Snotlout, who was always close by for some reason, to stack up behind me and maintain radio silence. I wait a couple of seconds until the Nadder looks away from my direction, then I give the command for the two of them to move across the corridor. Snotlout executes a near-perfect dive roll without being spotted, but Hiccup fumbles and drops his shotgun. I slap my hand against my forehead in frustation, as the noise alerts the dragon to our presence.

Exiting from cover, I let fly a burst of fire from both my submachine guns, one in each hand, distracting the Nadder long enough for Hiccup to recover his shotgun and get back into cover. Having repelled the Nadder for now, I reload. It's not long before we reach a crossroads where we are spotted again. Sensing a suitable time for heroics and acting cool, Snotlout steps in front of me, M203 Grenade Launcher in hand. "Step aside, Sarge, let me handle this."

He fires, and completely misses. The lone round hits the wall behind the dragon, and explodes without even harming it. Stunned, he tries to explain, "The sun was in my eyes! What do want me to do, block out the sun?"

I ignore his pathetic excuses and dash away as the dragon gives chase. Winding through the corridors, I eventually lose Snotlout and Hiccup, with the dragon still on my tail. Firing wildly behind me to no avail, I soon run out of ammo as I hear the firing mechanism click without firing any more rounds. My only option now was to run. The dragon is knocking down all the walls due to it clumsily bashing into them, and the flimsy complex was collapsing around me.

Cursing as I dodged a falling wall, I climb up onto a pile of rubble and broken plywood, intending to finally escape the Nadder's chase. Leaping off, I notice Hiccup standing where I would land. I yell at him to get away, but I know it to be useless. He wouldn't be able to react fast enough. I land on him, and the both of us tumble onto the ground. The dragon lands a distance away, missing me.

"Ooh, love on the battlefield~" I hear Tuffnut's teasing remarks, after which Ruffnut replies, "Nah, she could do better…"

I notice Hiccup's face buried between… in my chest. Two of us blushing furiously, I get up.

Frustrated as I am, this wasn't the time to be so hung up about the stupidity of the situation as the Nadder turns around, gnashing its teeth and preparing for a final charge. I grab Hiccup's shotgun, but the sling around his neck prevents me from lifting it high enough to aim. In my state of panic, I completely ignore Hiccup's suggestions and yelps of pain as I plant my boot against his chest, tugging furiously at the cloth strap.

It finally breaks, and my only reaction was to swing the butt of the shotgun, using the momentum to turn it into a melee weapon, smashing it into the side of the dragon with considerable force. It is sufficient to stun the dragon, as the handlers rush in and harness it, forcing it back into its cage.

As the adrenaline rush subsides, I turn to Hiccup. I am now extremely frustrated, flustered, and highly embarrassed at what had just happened. I direct my outburst at the guy, not caring anymore for his incompetence. "Is this some sort of game, or a joke to you?! Our forerunners' war is going to become ours, Corporal. You had better figure out which side you're on!"

Tossing his shotgun aside, I storm out of the training grounds, holding back tears of anger. I can't take this anymore. I can't lead this group of losers.


	7. Initiation

**Chapter 7: Initiation**

_Ruins, 1500hrs  
LCP Jack Haddock_

It's a peaceful afternoon like any other, and I couldn't see how this day could get any worse. I discover 101 ways to die, I piss off my childhood crush, and I still haven't learned anything about Night Furies. Curiosity really does kill the cat. I don't have any duties today, and Sgt. Gobber is busy assisting the engineers, clearing the sand and making repairs due to the damages from last night's sandstorm. Taking this chance, I decide to sneak out and test my luck once again. This time, I sneak a pack of frozen beef from our newly-replenished stores along; it might be useful.

If I can't find out anything from our database, I might as well find out myself.

Having made my way over to the ruins, I slowly advance into the open, now-thawed meat held with my gloves. My fireproof shield is slung on my back, just in case. Just before I completely expose myself, I toss the raw meat out into the open. It lands on the floor with a wet slap. Nothing happens, so I continue moving on.

_Thunk._

The shield gets stuck in the narrow gap that opens into the complex, yanking me back as I walk forward without noticing it. I tug at the straps, willing the shield to free itself. After a couple of attempts, I give up. Picking up the piece of meat, I reach the body of water. I look around for any signs of life, nervous and curious at the same time.

I feel a presence behind me. Turning around, I see a black mass watching me with yellow eyes from the top of a pile of rubble. I gulp and take a step away from it, trying to increase the distance between me and the Night Fury. Gracefully, it leaps from its perch, eyes trained on me the whole time. It sniffs the air, noticing the meat in my hand. In less than a second, it's in front of me, examining the food.

I extend my arm, offering the meat to the dragon, not knowing what to expect.

As if hypnotized by the potential meal in my hand, the Night Fury draws nearer, opening its mouth. However, with a deep growl, it retreats almost instantly, eyes narrowing, razor-sharp teeth bared in a show of aggression. Could it be that senses my hidden combat knife to be a threat? My suspicions are confirmed as the growl increases in volume when I reach for it.

Taking it out of its sheath, I drop it on the floor. Not enough, it seems, as the dragon makes a gesture with its head.

Not wanting to give it any reason to attack, I kick the knife away. At this point I wonder if it was a good idea or a completely stupid one that was going to get me killed.

The moment my knife is out of reach, the dragon returns to its docile, almost cat-like demeanor. I hold out the meat one more time, and the Night Fury comes near once again. Opening its mouth, I notice something odd.

Where did its teeth go? "Huh, toothless… I could've sworn you had…"

All of a sudden, those pearly whites extend like hidden ninja knives, as the dragon snatches the meat from my hands. I nearly fall back in shock.

"Teeth…"

It swallows and licks the outside of its mouth in satisfaction. Looking back at me, it leans closer, examining me from head to toe. It follows me as I stagger back, like it was expecting something more from me. I finally reach a wall, where I fall over into a sitting position against it.

"I… I don't have any more…"

As if understanding, the Night Fury withdraws a little. I hear a low rumble, as it suddenly begins to hack up. A moment later, half a piece of regurgitated meat lands on my lap, covered in dragon saliva and digestive tract fluids.

I stare, stunned, at the dragon as it sits on its hind legs, imitating my posture.

It stares back.

Five seconds of awkward silence follows, before the dragon gestures to the object in my lap.

What?! No… You can't be serious?!

It nods as I lift the meat up. Not believing what I was going to do, I take a bite. The flavor explodes in my mouth, and not in a good way. It tasted like a weird mix of expired sashimi, garnished with excess horseradish and topped off with an overpowering smell of puke.

The dragon gulps, indicating for me to swallow.

WHAT THE HELL.

Reminding myself to report to the medic's office later, I try to swallow it. I almost retch and vomit it out, but my fear of offending the dragon took charge, and I manage the feat somehow.

"Ugh…" Looking up at it, I attempt a weak smile, hoping it would give up.

Unexpectedly, the dragon cocks its head to one side, and draws back the ends of its mouth, revealing those toothless gums again.

Was it trying to imitate my smile?

Amazed at its innocence and lack of hostility, I slowly reach out with my right hand. Unfortunately, I think my actions were seen as an invasion of personal space, as those teeth extend again, accompanied by another growl. The Night Fury draws back and flies off a short distance to the other side of the oasis. Casting its flame as a continuous blue stream onto the sand, it forms a small bed of warm glass where it lays down.

All this while, I am hypnotized by its natural behaviours. I never knew a dragon could be so… harmless. I try to go nearer. It notices me, and shifts on the spot, covering its face with its wings and tail, irritated by my presence.

I find a spot some distance away and decide to just watch the dragon. It was fascinating.

* * *

I've retrieved my knife, and am now using it to make sketches in the desert sand. Sketches of Toothless.

Yes, I've given it a name. Seems fitting, given its nature to keep its teeth hidden during most of the time that I've been observing it.

I suddenly get the feeling that I was being watched. I was right, as Toothless was, at this point, looking curiously over my shoulder. This feels odd, but I continue to make scratches in the sand with my knife. It seems to notice that I was making pictures of itself, as it follows the motions of my knife. Soon, I hear it move away. It was probably bored anyway.

I hear loud scratches coming from behind me. Turning around, I am taken aback by what I see. Toothless was using its tail to make its own drawing in the sand! Half-amazed, half-amused, I look on with an excited smile on my face. The tip of its tail makes deep strokes, kicking up small clouds of dust, some of which land in my face, but I don't mind. Once in a while, Toothless turns to look at me, after which it continues with its work. After a short while, it stops, and looks down at its abstract work with satisfaction in its bright emerald eyes.

From where I was standing, I could notice some semblance of facial features in abstract form; could that be me? Flattered, I move forward to admire it, accidentally stepping on one of the lines. Toothless growls, surprising me, and I lift my foot off the line. Its face instantly returns to a happy, docile expression. I play with that, putting down and lifting my foot, while observing the rapid changes in expressions in amusement. After a few times, I move on, slowly waltzing across the canvas of sand, taking care not to damage it.

As I dance over and across the ground, I finally reach a point where I feel warm air down the back of my neck. I turn around to face Toothless. Maybe I should try again…

Reaching out once more, Toothless again growls at me. Taking a deep breath, I try again, this time facing away, my eyes closed.

I mean you no harm. Please, let me feel you.

The palm of my hand meets scales that seem velvety to the touch. Warmth spreads down the length of my arm, as I release my breath. Opening my eyes, I face Toothless. It retreats a little, before moving away and flying off.

The feeling was odd, but in a good way. I look at my hand, wishing that moment hadn't ended so quickly.

* * *

_Installation 83-RK, 1900hrs_

"…He took my hand, and swallowed it whole. I saw the look on his face – I was delicious! He must've passed the message, because it wasn't more than a month before another one took my leg!" As he said that Sgt. Gobber gestured to his bionic prosthetic leg, sharing his tales on the battlefield against the dragons to exclamations of awe from the impressed recruits. It was a cold desert evening, as per normal. We had just finished another session at the training grounds, and Sgt. Gobber decided to have a little outdoor dinner over the campfire for tonight. 3SG Astrid is still ignoring me.

"Isn't it weird, to think that your hand was inside a dragon?" Another one of Fishleg's weird thoughts. "What if your mind was still in control of it? You could kill the dragon from the inside, by crushing its heart or something…"

I give him a look of mild disgust as Snotlout begins ranting, "Oh God, I'm so angry right now! I swear, I'm going to avenge your beautiful hand, and your beautiful foot! I'll chop off the legs of every dragon I fight, with my face!"

That did not make a lick of sense.

I return to my thoughts of Toothless and its behavior, as Sgt. Gobber resumes his talk, "Nah, it's not the legs, it's the wings you really want! No wings, no fly. A downed dragon is a dead dragon."

That statement jolts me. Toothless can't fly.

I had to do something, fast.


	8. New Tail

**Chapter 8: New Tail**

_Aircraft Maintenance Hangar 04, 0030hrs  
LCP Jack Haddock_

I managed to find an empty hangar normally used to store our aircraft. Currently, the A-10 Thunderbolt II that would have been here was on standby at the runway, armed and ready. It was late, and there was minimal possibility that anybody would come in here for the next 24 hours, allowing me to work in peace, and access to all the tools and equipment I would need.

I examined the objects laid out on the floor of the hangar. In the past three hours, I had rushed to the aircraft boneyard behind the base to try and find materials for this little 'project' of mine. Some scrap metal, military-grade polymer tubing, heavy-duty Kevlar strips and most importantly, the left tail fin of a condemned 1990s-era F-16 jet fighter. After we had revamped our flight squadron last year with the F-22 Raptors and F-15E Strike Eagles bought from air forces making way for the latest F-35 Lightning II jet fighters, we had decommissioned all our F-16s, leaving them to rust in the boneyard. Fortunately, I found one which had not rusted through yet, and I had detached the fin for my own use.

Satisfied at the results of my treasure hunt, I begin working further into the night.

For the next four hours, I draft, design and construct. The diamond-tipped circular saw cuts through reinforced metal with loud screeches. The heat from the brazing flame as I fuse steel with steel causes me to sweat, despite the cold night desert air. Once in a while, I refer to my designs to ensure that I'm going the right way, leaving on blueprints black fingerprints from the dirt on my hands. Sparks fly as I grind metal plates against the abrasive grinder, smoothening out rough edges and forming aerodynamic shapes. Carefully, I staple and stamp on Kevlar strips to metal alloy frames, fastening them and reinforcing with steel bolts.

My arms turn sore from the intensive action, but I press on; I had to finish this as quickly as possible.

* * *

_0500hrs_

I step back and take a look at my handiwork, safety goggles resting on my forehead. By now, my hands and arms are glistening with a mix of sweat and lubricating oil. My gloves are soaked through, but I take no time to rest. The F-16 tail fin had now been modified to simulate a Night Fury's tail fin, not too different from that of a fish. It could be fully extended to allow for steering and maneuverability, or collapsed to reduce surface area and increase aerodynamic properties for maximum speed, in theory at least. The steel frame was bolted to Kevlar cloth straps that would be buckled together in order to attach the fin to the dragon's tail.

Smiling in satisfaction, I collapse the modified tail fin, and pack it into a heavy-duty aluminum case usually used to carry our Stinger personal portable surface-to-air missiles. I quickly clear the workbench of waste scrap, and lug the case out of the hangar on a handcart.

It's a Sunday, and there wouldn't be training due to company policy, meaning I would be free for most of the day.

Time to test this out.

* * *

_Ruins/Oasis, 0800hrs_

It wasn't easy sneaking into the freezer room back at base, and I hope the trouble is going to be worth it. My backpack is filled with all the frozen rations that I could get my hands on, with a couple of freshly-killed desert critters I found on the way here, as backup. Getting here wasn't simple either, given that I was lugging a modified fighter jet tail fin in a heavy aluminum case along with the abovementioned 20kg backpack straining against my shoulders.

"Hey Toothless… I brought breakfast, I hope you're hungry." I call out to the Night Fury, which is currently lazing in the early morning sun next to the oasis. Having caught its attention, I empty my pack in front of it, letting the now-thawed meat spill out onto the ground. Realising the mess it left behind in my bag, I mutter, "Ugh… that's disgusting…"

Coming closer, Toothless examines the food, circling it as if something were to jump out. Once every few seconds it pokes the tip of its nose into the pile, as if smelling it and testing for freshness. "Well, I've got you pork from Australia, mutton from New Zealand, freshly flown-in fish from Iceland, and a whole desert cobra, if you're into that sort of thing…"

Just as I complete that last statement Toothless' eyes widen. It withdraws its head from the pile, and growls. Wondering what is going on, I reach in and take the cobra out. As I do so, Toothless nearly goes berserk, screeching and cowering away. "No! No, no… okay! No snakes…"

I toss the python carcass away, "Yeah… I don't really like snakes either…"

Having calmed down, Toothless digs into its meal. Slowly, I make my way around it to its rear, taking this chance while the dragon was distracted. I open the aluminum case, take out the collapsed fin, and set the contraption next to the injured black tail. I try to adjust its position, but the movements of the tail keeps offsetting what I do. Frustrated, I climb onto the tail in a desperate attempt to immobilize it. I finally manage to attach the fin, buckling it tightly with the Kevlar straps, and fixing it securely with military-grade Velcro. I tighten the straps a bit more, such that the steel frame fitted nicely onto the tail. Extending the mechanical fin, I smile in satisfaction.

"Not bad, I think it might just work…. WHOA!"

A sudden jerk forces me backwards and up into the air, as I scream my lungs out in the shock of seeing the ground fall away from me. I look back, and realise that the damn dragon must have thought that its fin had grown back, having felt the weight on its tail, and I curse under my breath while desperately holding onto the tail for dear life. I never liked roller coasters.

Wait, was the fin working? Looking up, I notice that the wind blowing the tail back into its collapsed state. This must have some effect on flight, as Toothless was now losing balance and barreling towards the ground again. I reach out and grab the fin, manually extending it to full size. As I do so, Toothless regains its balance and aerodynamics, banking upwards and ascending towards the bright morning sky. I succumb to joy and excitement at the proper functioning of my device. "Oh my God! It's working! It's actually working! Yes, yes, I did it!"

Suddenly, the tail flicks, and I am thrown off. Damn dragon. I land, yelling, back in the oasis, with a splash. Not too far away, Toothless loses his balance again as the fin collapses due to the lack of support, and crashes into the water as well.

Trial One: Partial success. Good enough for me! I leap out of the water and punch my fist in the air, exclaiming in joy.

* * *

_Dragon Combat Training Area, 1600hrs_

"Today's lesson is all about teamwork. A wet dragon head is unable to light its fire, and thus you are armed today with a bucket of water, a useful tactic should you find yourself cornered, out of ammo, and out of options. The Hideous Zippleback is extremely tricky in this sense; one head breathes a composition of flammable hydrocarbon gases, while the other one lights it with a flint spark, resulting in a deadly explosion. This is also the reason why you don't use guns against the Zippleback, especially in an enclosed area like this. Sparks and heat from guns can set off the gases, if you are close enough. Your job today as two-man fireteams, is to find out which head is which, and disable the dragon."

For this session, we are paired up, with each of us carrying a bucketful of water. A bit primitive, but apparently useful. I am standing back-to-back with Fishlegs, two of us moving around in a circle, watching each other's back in the smoky arena. Sgt. Gobber had thrown in a smoke grenade to add to the element of surprise for this session.

"Razor-sharp serrated teeth, injects venom for predigestion; for its ambush attack, crushes its victims…"

"WILL YOU PLEASE STOP THAT?" Irritated, I whisper across the intercom. His vast knowledge of dragons, while impressive, did not help much in easing the tension of this situation.

I hear Snotlout trying to act brave, but his edginess and fear is given away by his voice, as he gives instructions to his teammate Tuffnut, "If… if that dragon shows any … of its heads… THERE!"

I hear two splashes of water, and high-pitched yells of surprise. "Fireteam Bravo, this is Alpha team, friendly fire! What the hell are you doing?"

Sergeant Astrid and Ruffnut, now soaked, are now visible to me through the clearing smoke. Tuffnut retorts at his sister, "Bravo 2 to Alpha 2, your butts are getting bigger. We thought you were a dragon."

"Bravo 1 here, not that there's anything wrong with a dragon-esque figure…Ow!" Two thwacks are heard, and I cringe as I see Alpha 1 deliver a sound beating to Bravo team. Suddenly, before Tuffnut can get up, something grabs him from behind, dragging him yelling into the smokescreen. Alpha team holds their buckets at the ready, but before anything can happen, a long, thin tail sweeps across the ground, tripping them up and causing them to lose the water in their buckets. Tuffnut is released, as he runs by us yelping in pain.

"Chances of survival are dwindling into single digits now…" Thanks, Fishlegs, like I needed a reminder.

A round horned head on a long, thin neck snakes out of the smoke. Those razor-sharp serrated teeth are poised to strike, as the dragon's eyes focus on Fishlegs. Panicking, he steps back as the head draws closer. Finally, he musters the courage and empties his bucket on the head. Annoyed, the dragon opens its mouth… and releases brown, noxious fumes. "Oh, wrong head."

OH F---

"Fishlegs!" I panic and quickly search around for the other head as my teammate runs away screaming like a little girl. I turn to face another head exactly like the one earlier, but this time it was emitting sparks from its mouth, like a living, reptilian Zippo. Sgt. Gobber's command rings through my headset, "Now, Hiccup!"

I toss the water at the right dragon head… and the stream falls just short of it. I look at the empty bucket in exasperation. "AW COME ON!"

The dragon charges forward, knocking me back. Through the intercom, I hear Sgt. Gobber calling for the dragon helpers to get into the ring. He probably thought this was going to get out of control.

He thought wrong.

Getting up, I advance towards the dragon. As I planned, the dragon draws back, retreating slowly as I move towards it, its heads in expressions of fear, eyes opened wide. It gives shrieks and screeches, and cowers away from me. "Back! Get back! Don't let me tell you again!"

It attempts to come close, but I manage to drive it back, its heads repelled every time it reaches me. Finally, I corner it back into its enclosure. With a grin, I take out a dead desert cobra from under my vest and toss it into the cage. "Now think about what you've done."

Closing the door, I notice everyone staring at me as if I had grown another head, eyes wide open and jaws on the floor. I wipe my hands on my pants and stutter, "Uh… okay, so are we done? I've got… uh… something… Yup, I'll, uh… See you tomorrow!"

I slip away as their stares follow me out.


	9. Friends with Benefits

**Chapter 9: Friends With Benefits**

_Afghan airspace, 0800hrs  
LCP Jack Haddock_

Night Fury Flight Recovery – Trial Session Five. I've made a sort of saddle for him (I've grown close and affectionate enough to the Night Fury to find that it's easier to refer to it as a 'him'), modified from the seat of an old Harley-Davidson that was used as a combat motorcycle in the PMC until the early 1990s, when the motorcycle support company was phased out. I constructed it last night, after dragon combat training. The leather seat is held down to a light flexible polycarbonate frame, and strapped to the dragon's body with nylon belts and steel buckles. It makes riding much more comfortable for me, despite the initial reluctance Toothless displayed towards the idea. In fact, it took me quite a while this morning to harness the seat onto him.

A length of rope normally used during helicopter rescue operations is connected to the harness and my belt at each end with a heavy-duty clip. I had made this modification taking into account an incident where I fell off Toothless in mid-flight. Thankfully we were no more than ten feet off the ground, and I had splash-landed in the oasis where I did the initial test flights.

The artificial tail fin I made is proving to be quite a challenge. For now, it is controlled by a rope tied to my boots. It is crude, stiff, difficult to control and annoying for both Toothless and myself, and I was hard at work in my free time trying to design a better method. At least it was better than when I first started out; I was holding the rope in my left hand as my right held on to the harness. Not only did that make it difficult for me to coordinate my actions, it also made it dangerous for me as it forced me to take my eyes off the direction I was heading towards.

I cautiously fly Toothless across the clear morning sky. We were going to need a lot of practice; coordinating the movements of the tail fin with flight situations was already difficult as it is, and the sluggish controls didn't help one bit. The wind blows the fin back into its collapsed mode, and I am unable to re-extend it in time before Toothless loses aerodynamic lift once again. Closing my eyes, I brace for impact.

We land in a field of desert crops; this part of the desert had been leased out to scientists hoping to explore the possibilities of growing genetically-modified wheat that could withstand harsh desert conditions. I get up, hoping to get Toothless up and flying again so we could escape before anyone could catch us trampling upon the abnormally large waist-high wheat crops. It's amazing what genetics can do.

I hear low growls and what sounded like deep purrs. Bewildered, I follow the direction of the sounds, and before I know it, I chance upon Toothless rolling around in the wheat, obviously enjoying himself like a cat frolicking around on a comfortable bed. Perhaps it was the warmth trapped in the cushion-like layer of wheat, or maybe it was something to do with the plants…

_

* * *

_

Dragon Combat Training Area, 1700hrs  
3SG Astrid Hofferson

"That was amazing!'

"How did you manage it?"

"I have never seen a Gronckle do that!"

For once, the exclamations of awe aren't directed at me. Not that I'm complaining to soothe my ego or anything, but what really irked me was that the person whom I thought would have normally least deserved such remarks was actually the centre of attention.

"I… uh, left my stuff back there, you guys go on ahead… I'll catch up…" Hiccup, not used to being surrounded by praises, forces his way through the platoon to make his way back, bumping into me in the process. Ever since that incident with the Nadder back then,I didn't want to talk to him. It was partially out of embarrassment, but also because I had lost hope that these guys could improve in any way. After all, I was pretty much the only one handling the dragons in the ring. The platoon only got in my way. I had made up my mind to win this little competition and kill that final dragon; I wanted to jolt the platoon to their senses, and wake up their ideas to the reality of the situation. Never mind if their egos get bruised along the way; that's life.

Oddly, things went differently today. I could have taken down that Gronckle, but Hiccup did something to it before I could; he held out some grass or something, and got the dragon acting like a cat that got high on catnip. I didn't even need to finish the job.

'He got lucky,' I think to myself, as I look back at him. Slinging my guns over my shoulders, I walk back to the bunks without saying a word to my platoon.

* * *

_Abandoned settlement/Oasis, 0700hrs  
LCP Jack Haddock_

I had just designed and installed a simple hydraulic system with pistons, flexible pipes and gears to assist in the control of the tail fin on Toothless' harness. The idea of using the braking system of the Harley-Davidson bike I had found for the seat came to me last night, and I just had to work on it as soon as I could. Combined with a set of pedals, one on each side, I had finally found a feasible solution to the steering issue.

But I didn't want to test it yet. I had been up the whole night working on this, and I needed a rest. Closing my eyes, I drift off into the abyss.

Unfortunately, before I can completely go unconscious, Toothless nuzzles up to me, waking me back into my sleep-deprived state. He wants to play.

Sighing, but smiling at the same time, I pat his head. Moving my hand down his neck, I notice a series of large bumpy scales. As I scratch them, Toothless stretches out his head, and lets out a soft growl of pleasure. My smile widens as I increase the intensity of scratching, making Toothless purr even louder. My hand runs across a soft spot on the underside of his neck. Suddenly, the dragon goes weak, dropping onto his belly. A smile-like expression on his face, I look at my hands in amazement.

So the dragon has a sensitive spot? Seriously, at times I don't know whether this really is the feared Night Fury, or whether he is just a giant cat with wings.

_

* * *

_

Canteen, 1900hrs  
3SG Astrid Hofferson

This was getting annoying. How in high hell did he get so good? It just isn't right! Hiccup, the lousiest shot in the whole camp, the weakest member of my platoon, was actually beating me at the course I aced last year?

Just this afternoon, he took down a Deadly Nadder, literally with his bare hands. Even I have never tried to do that! I had managed to stun the dragon with a couple of flashbangs, and was just about to finish it off with a burst of fire at close range. I had wanted to stop it as it charged blindly at Hiccup. To my shock, I saw Hiccup drop his gun and reach out to the dragon's neck with his hands. Before I could do anything, the dragon was down and out. I was left there looking at him like a surprised idiot, submachine guns pointed at an unconscious reptile, jaw on the floor. Completely unbelievable, right?

I notice a ruckus beginning to form in the canteen. Wondering what the commotion is all about, I look up to see the source of all my troubles moving to sit at the table opposite mine. A crowd is forming around him; apparently the news of his miraculous powers has spread, and everyone wants a piece of the action. My table empties as my so-called platoon mates rush over to greet Hiccup. Someone clumsily bumps into me in the chaos, knocking over my soda bottle and spilling it all over my front. Frustrated at being completely ignored, embarrassed at having my tank top soaked in Coca Cola, and maybe a bit jealous of the recognition I wasn't getting, I slam the now almost-empty bottle on the table. Face contorted in an expression of annoyance, I storm away from the suffocating crowd. I bet he's having a lot of fun basking in all the attention.

Don't get cocky… luck can only take you so far here. I swear I am going to win this. I will show you the true skill of a Dragon Combat Specialist.

_

* * *

_

Dragon Combat Training Area, 0800hrs  
3SG Astrid Hofferson

It's one of the few morning training sessions we have. Sgt. Gobber's now-familiar voice crackles over the intercom once again as he introduces the dragon species we are going to learn to fight today. "Meet the Terrible Terror."

A tiny creature no taller than my knee pops out from a little latch on the side of the wall, surprising the inexperienced recruits. The lizard appears harmless, but its large cute eyes and tiny wings conceal its true behaviour, as the platoon is about to find out. Tuffnut is the first to underestimate it.

"Hah! It's like the size of my… OOF!" I never get to find out which part of Tuffnut's anatomy is similar in dimensions to the Terrible Terror, as the little bastard slams into him. I don't think anyone wants to know anyway. The lizard knocks him over, as it scratches and mauls his face like an angry pussy cat. Tuffnut is wailing like a little girl, "Augh! Get it off me! Get it off…!"

I am thoroughly enjoying this scene, and I know his sister Ruffnut is highly amused as well. But a lesson is a lesson, and I begin walking over to handle the situation. Suddenly, a red dot flashes and appears on the ground. Noticing it, the Terror releases Tuffnut from its deathgrip and leaps over to the laser dot. Surprised by its sudden change in target, I strafe aside, and to my incredible exasperation I realize that once again, Hiccup has somehow saved the day once more.

He was using the integrated laser aiming device on his USP pistol to distract the dragon. Pointing his pistol at the ground, he draws a path with the laser, leading the Terror away from the group of recruits. The dragon follows it intently, and even attempts to catch the dot in its little claws, failing every time.

"Wow, he's better than you ever were." Yeah, rub it in, eh, Tuffnut? Asshole. My fist wants to meet his face so badly for that comment, but I control my frustration. Hiccup finally lures the Terror back through the latch, before he holds it shut with his foot.

Switching off the laser aiming device, he holsters the gun and smiles sheepishly.

My eyebrows twitch as I hold myself back from throttling him.

* * *

_**A/N- I apologise if this chapter seems a bit confusing; I was trying to recreate the montage of these scenes in the film. Anyway, do look forward to something a bit refreshing (I hope) for the next chapter!**_


	10. A BattleMaiden's Troubles

**Chapter 10: A Battle-Maiden's Troubles**

_Live Firing Practice Course, CQB Variant, 1300hrs  
3SG Astrid Hofferson_

I skip lunch today to spend the afternoon at the CQB course. This was a simulated city block, installed with bullet-absorbing walls, trap simulations and life-size human figure automated target boards. Whenever I needed time to myself, I would come here to practice, completely blocking out all other thoughts and focusing on whatever problem I was facing. In a way, this was a stress-reliever for me.

And I was bloody stressed today.

I turn on my Sony Walkman. The familiar anthemic refrain from Drowning Pool's famous metal song echoes through my large Sennheiser headphones.

_Let the bodies hit the floor  
Let the bodies hit the floor  
Let the bodies hit the floor  
Let the bodies hit the…_

I remotely activate the battle course with a press of a button. A long sound from the buzzer signals the start of timing.

_FLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR_

Target boards snap up, as I sprint forward, P90s cocked and ready in each hand. Squeezing the triggers, I release a piercing rain of full metal jacket rounds. My headphones are on at full volume, blocking out all ambient noise with the screams of the electric guitar and the heavy beats from the drum set. Even the gunshots are muffled into a muted roar

_Beaten, why for  
Can't take much more  
Here we go here we go here we go, now_

One after another, target boards lower as they are riddled with bullets. I vault through windows, and slide under low pipes. Diving across a doorway, I toss a cooked frag grenade inside, not waiting to feel the rumble of the explosion. I notice the aptness of the lyrics with regards to my situation. The frustration has been building up in me ever since Hiccup began beating me at Dragon Combat training.

_One, nothing wrong with me  
Two, nothing wrong with me  
Three, nothing wrong with me  
Four, nothing wrong with me_

Perhaps I was trying to convince myself so. But is there really nothing wrong with me? If so, why am I losing to Hiccup all of a sudden? My confidence is beginning to crumble with each new loss to him. I twist, turn, leap and somersault, waltzing through the corridors, performing my own little _danse macabre_. In my hands, my two dance partners hose out lead shards in all directions, letting my arms direct them where they needed to go.

_One, something's got to give  
Two, something's got to give  
Three, something's got to give  
Now! _

Others used to call me 'Astrid Two-hand' for my skill with the dual sub-machine guns, and for dual-wielding combat knives in hand-to-hand direct combat. I was revered for being the youngest person ever to have cleared the DCSC on my first try. Now, I'm only something others shove aside to get to Hiccup. Why the sudden change in attitudes and treatment? I want an answer so badly, but I don't know who to ask. I am afraid of rejection, afraid to find a truth that could crush my withering self-esteem into powder.

_Push me again  
This is the end  
Here we go here we go here we go, now_

I am reaching my limit; I don't think I can handle any more of this. I don't understand what's going on. I have never felt so strongly about someone before. Hiccup is the first person in the eighteen years of my life to have stirred up such intense emotions. He is someone I can't comprehend at all, and yet I am trying so hard to do so. I ask myself one more time – Why?

_Let the bodies hit the floor  
Let the bodies hit the floor  
Let the bodies hit the floor_

I storm the final area, a sad, cold, lifeless replica of a living room with scarred walls and steel furniture. Target boards pop up all around me. Twirling around, I squeeze off the last of the rounds, emptying both magazines in my guns in tornado storm of cold, steel death. As the target boards are turned to swiss cheese, I drop the smoking machine guns, letting them fall to the floor among the spent brass casings. Panting heavily, I try to catch my breath.

_Skin to skin, blood and bone  
You're all by yourself but you're not alone  
You wanted in and now you're here  
Driven by hate, consumed by fear_

The last solo target board rises from behind the shredded sofa. I draw my .44 Magnum revolver, a single bullet loaded in its chamber. Cocking the gun, I take aim at the head of the figure. In my battle-charged adrenaline high, I visualize Hiccup's face right there.

"Give up… I'll never… never let you win…" I mutter under my tired breath.

Gritting my teeth in determination, I pull the trigger.

_LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR_

As the final buzzer sounds, my legs give way and I collapse on my knees. Tears of frustration roll down my face, mixing with sweat and stinging my eyes. I realize the conflict between my job as platoon sergeant and my stubborn emotions. My headphones come loose, falling onto my neck and resting on my shoulders.

I'm so confused. What do I do?

* * *

_1600hrs_

I've calmed down, and am now packing up to leave the training complex after clearing away the spent brass bullet cartridges. My score for today sets a new personal best – 98.7% accuracy rate, cleared in 3 minutes 24 seconds. Strangely, I don't feel any better. Returning my guns back into their cases, I secure the catch and lock up. The polycarbonate box carrying my trusty weapons and their attachments feels unusually heavy today on my tired shoulder. Maybe there is just too much an emotional burden for me to handle. Sighing heavily, I tie the sleeves of my shirt around my bare waist so I didn't need to carry it in my arms. It's a hot evening anyway, and my skin is already damp with sweat from the exercise. I felt perfectly comfortable wearing my black sports bra, as I feel the occasional cool wind brush against the skin of my arms, neck and face. It provides me a momentary sanctuary from my stormy emotions.

A low rumble emits from my flat, well-toned stomach. I blush, even though no one is around. Damn, training always makes me hungry. Maybe I should go to the canteen for an early dinner after storing my weapons back in the bunk.

Just as I step out of the complex, someone crashes into me, knocking me over. Massaging the side of my arm to relieve the pain, I look up and see the clumsy idiot apologise before running away, a large duffel bag on his back. It was Hiccup. Puzzled at his odd actions, I observe his receding silhouette. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I decide to follow. However, he suddenly turns a corner, and I lose sight of him. Tired out by the intense training, I give up, punching the wall next to me in irritation. I'll let it go this time.

_

* * *

_

Abandoned Settlement/Oasis, 1800hrs  
LCP Jack Haddock

That was close. Thank god I managed to shake her off. All hell would have broken loose if she had discovered Toothless. Never mind if she still won't speak to me.

Speaking of which, I've just constructed a new and improved harness for Toothless earlier this afternoon. Not only did I redesign it to be more comfortable for him, I've also included a simple lightweight integrated radar surveillance system, adapted from an unused Reconnaissance Unmanned Aerial Vehicle. This system would synchronise wirelessly with a flight visor I modified to display processed flight data on a projected Heads-Up Display on the inside of the visor. This would make it much easier for me to handle Toothless and steer him, allowing me to make decisions and changes more quickly on the go. I also added hardpoints for the equipment of additional devices and attachments, if needed in the future.

After changing the harness, I decide to do one more trial flight to familiarize myself with tail fin positions. Due to limited memory space on the digital flight visor, I am unable to integrate tail fin positioning for reference, and I would have to manually record them. We move to the highest and windiest point among the ruins, the roof of a four-storey building. Securing Toothless to the floor with a rope, I manage to simulate a wind tunnel-like set-up. Understanding my intentions, Toothless lets me get on, and spreads his wings.

The wind picks us up as I partially extend the mechanical tail fin.

"Cruising at a constant speed… position three…" I record the positions of the pedals for this intended action on a sheet of paper clipped to the handles of the harness. Fully extending the tail fin, I take note of this new position again, as it causes Toothless to slow down and come to a stop, landing softly. Wind speed picks up, and Toothless enthusiastically lifts himself off the ground. Unfortunately, the wind is too strong, blowing us back and snapping the rope into two. We tumble down, landing on the sandy ground.

"Ow…" I try to get up, and notice that the rope I used to clip myself to the harness is now tangled and stuck. I would need tools to cut it and release myself. Sighing, I wonder how to go about this, "Oh, great…"

_

* * *

_

Installation 83-RK, 2000hrs  
LCP Jack Haddock

Slipping past the guards was easy, thanks to Toothless being black and blending in perfectly into the shadows. We can't fly in, as we would have been detected by the scouts and aerial scanners. I manage to make my way to the still-empty flight hangars. Sneaking through the darkness, we reach the tool stores.

Toothless, having never been here before, is naturally, but unnecessarily, curious about the objects around him. I cringe as his tail knocks over a pile of scrap metal. The sound echoes throughout the empty hangar. I quickly grab a pair of pliers and a large screwdriver. Drat, now we have to get out of here as soon as possible. Hopefully no one heard that…

"Hiccup… Jack? Are you in there?"

OH SHIT. Astrid? What is she doing here at this time?

I motion to Toothless to stay hidden as I slowly move out into her view. I coil up the rope connecting Toothless to my vest into a corner, trying to minimize its visibility. 3SG Astrid was probably on guard duty, judging by the rifle slung across her back, and the torchlight in her hands. I manage to stutter out, "Hi… um… Hi Sarge, ah, Sergeant… Astrid… Nice evening…"

"I don't normally care about what my men do after training, but you're acting weird, soldier." Her reply is curt, and I think she's still mad at me, by the way she said it. I can only smile sheepishly. Suddenly, I am tugged from behind. What is that damn dragon doing?

I am pulled further away, and finally Toothless drags me out of Astrid's sight, much to her shock. She runs into the tools store, but by then, Toothless and I are already outside, having exited through the back door and running through the shadows to safety.

That was too close for comfort.

* * *

_**A/N - "Bodies" Composed and performed by Drowning Pool, Copyright Wind-up Records.**_


	11. Not So Fireproof

**Chapter 11: Not So Fireproof**

_Installation 83-RK, 1400hrs_

There is an air of defeat and disappointment, as the mobile formation slowly rolls in through the gates. The mission force is less than half the size it was when it first deployed. The remaining units are heavily damaged, scorch marks and large gashes on the sides of all the vehicles. Several tanks have their turrets either completely torn off, or have their barrels bent beyond repair. This mission had gone extremely wrong; the casualty rate was extremely high this time, with the personnel killed or missing in action numbering almost eighty out of the five hundred that were mobilized.

Medical personnel scramble out of the hospital block with first aid equipment. They are prepared for this; missions against the dragons have never gone without casualties. The wounded are rushed out of troop carriers onto stretchers and waiting bed trolleys. Medics and doctors set IV drips, pumping fluids into those losing them, and furiously changing blood-soaked pieces of cloth for clean, sterile bandages. Occasionally, a doctor signals for the defibrillator, as the accompanying medic performs cardio-pulmonary resuscitation, willing the victims to come back from the brink of death. A number of times, they fail, and they slam their fists against the ground in frustration as the pulse fades away forever, another life lost.

A group of personnel with black bands around their arms solemnly carry out their morbid duties – they are the mourning party, bringing out body bag after body bag. The leading officer has in his hand the identity tags of all the sacrificed warriors. Fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters lose their cool, their anguish and grief over their lost loved ones flooding their systems.

An unshaken, but visibly frustrated General Stoick exits his tank. He is greeted by Sgt. Gobber, "Well, I trust you found the nest at least?"

"Not even close," The cold reply is dripping with rage and disappointment. "I hope you've had a little more success than I have."

"Well, if by 'success you mean your parenting troubles are over with, then yes." The General gives his friend a puzzled look, before moving back to the battle conference room to prepare the mission debrief. There he is met by the commanding officers who stayed back at the base.

"I know this isn't the best time, Sir, but just to let you know, everyone back at base is so relieved!"

"Out with the old, and in with the new, eh, Sir?"

"it's a real comfort for us, knowing we have one less thing to worry about."

A surprised expression on his face, the General turns to Sgt. Gobber, "He's gone?"

"Well, yes, most afternoons, but who can blame him? The life of a celebrity is really tough, he can barely walk through the base without being swarmed by his new fans…"

"Jack?" The defeat must have driven him mad, he must be hearing things…

"Who would've thought it? He has a way with the beasts…"

_

* * *

_

Afghan airspace, 1430hrs  
LCP Jack Haddock

The wind whips through my hair, my visor secured firmly on my head. I've pretty much perfected the design of both the harness and the tail fin to the best of my ability, and I'm sure Toothless is quite satisfied with it as well; all that's left is to practice and get used to the coordination between pilot and dragon. As an additional modification just for fun, I added an integrated MP3 player within the visor, so I could enjoy some music while flying. The electronic beats and synthesized melodies from J-techno composers blast through the speakers; Techno and Eurobeat have always been favourite genres of mine.

"Alright, let's take this nice and slow…" I motion for Toothless to enter cruising speed. Position four… no, three. I adust the pedals to the appropriate position, and partially extend the tail fin for optimum cruising. I lean left, and Toothless banks in the same direction. Glancing back, I check the tail fin to ensure that it is functioning properly. All is well, so I take toothless higher. The HUD on my visor, similar to those used in fighter jets, displays our alignment with respect to the horizon, and the altitude counter increases in number.

"Okay, let's go in tight." I level out before initiating a sharp descent. All the time, I study the HUD, ensuring nothing goes wrong. Toothless levels out again about two metres above the ground, and we cruise along the surface. The beating of his wings kicks up a cloud of dust and sand behind us. "All systems are green. No issues with the tail fin. It's working fine…"

We weave through a desert canyon, rock formations rushing past us. Reaching a sharp turn, I am unable to react in time, and we can't pull back in time, and he smacks into the rock wall. "Oops, sorry…"

I am not paying attention, and we slam into another rock pillar. "My bad… Ow!"

Long ear reaching back, Toothless slaps me. Hard. "Okay! Okay… I'm on it… Position four, no, three."

Changing gears, I bring Toothless into a vertical ascent. Rapidly gaining altitude, the adrenaline builds up in me, climbing along with the altitude counter on my HUD. Overwhelmed by excitement, I exclaim, "Yeah! Come on, baby! Let's go! Ha ha…"

Suddenly, the sheet on which I recorded tail fin positions comes loose, blown away by the wind. By instinct, I reach out for it, and miss. Absent-mindedly, I let go of the harness. I realize my mistake too late, when I notice nothing but 200 metres of air between me and the ground after grabbing my 'cheat sheet'. Flailing around, I attempt to grab hold of Toothless and get back onto the saddle.

Just as I was thinking things couldn't get any worse, a bright red dot on my HUD and a piercing loud beeping noise alerts me. The words 'MISSILE ALERT' flash across the top of the display, and it was all I could do to avoid crapping in my pants. Toothless must have noticed something was wrong, because he was starting to panic as well. Without me at the controls, he is unable to fly, and is also free-falling towards a messy death.

From the corner of my eye, I spot a small speck emitting a trail of smoke. Damn it! Some Neo-Taleban land unit hiding in the sand dunes must have locked on with a Javelin missile launcher. Those things have been on the black market ever since a rival PMC 'lost' their shipment of British military surplus. I finally manage to pull myself back onto Toothless, just as the missile screams by me. I feel the heat from the rocket flame, and cough as the smoke chokes me. Digging my heels into the pedals, I re-establish control as the beeping and flashing red lights continue on the HUD. The missile had now turned around, still aimed at us. I have to outmaneuver the missile; try to shake it off somehow. At this point, I can't believe that I had actually considered flare and chaff dispensers as missile countermeasures on the harness; it was originally in my plans, but I had dropped the idea as I figured that such a situation would be unlikely.

Me and my awesome intuitions.

Referring to the tail fin positions on my sheet, I try to switch gears in tandem with Toothless, but the missile is closing in fast. Giving up, I glance at the sheet of paper, and throw it away to the wind. Letting my instincts and trust in Toothless take over, I switch gears on the fly, rapidly changing tail fin positions as Toothless swerved between rock formations, diving and climbing through the air. If there wasn't a payload of explosives following us behind, this would have been an awesome ride.

Despite leaving left and right, the missile doesn't give up. I try one last tactic. Leaning forward, I instruct Toothless to make a sharp dive. Unquestioningly, he complies, and barrels towards the ground in a perfect ninety-degree vertical drop, closing his wings to streamline himself. As planned, the missile follows closely. The altitude counter decreases rapidly; thirty metres from impact, I pull back on the harness hard. Toothless spreads his wings, stopping our descent, and dashes forward across the sand. The missile loses its lock on us, and crashes into the sand, exploding in a ball of orange and red.

I let out a sigh of relief, and make a mental note to go ahead with my plans to install flare dispensers. Punching my fist in the air in a sign of victory, I exclaim in the joy of having cheated death yet again, "YES!"

In an act of agreement, Toothless releases a ball of plasma that bursts into a brilliant flame in front of us.

"Aw, come on…"

_

* * *

_

Abandoned settlement/Oasis, 1800hrs

I sit on the ground, heating up my packs of field rations. Leaning against Toothless, I wait for the fire to do its job. My face slightly charred with soot, on the areas that my flight visor didn't cover. My hair is singed at the ends, marks of my so-called 'trial by fire'. Toothless is happily eating a wild camel he caught. He glances over at me, and pushes over a small piece of raw, bloody camel meat. I inwardly gag, but put on a weak smile, "No thanks, I'm fine…"

A small pack of Terrors land nearby, drawn by the scent of raw food. Toothless lets out a low growl as he pulls his food closer to himself, as if warning the much smaller dragons to stay away from his meal. In amusement, I observe the little lizards try to steal a piece or two away, first by engaging in a little tug-of-war with Toothless (the winner was obvious from the beginning), then by trying to sneak a piece away while he was distracted. Toothless catches the Terror in its tracks, and promptly snatches back the piece of meat. Angered at its failed plot, the smaller dragon tries aggression, drawing its breath and getting ready to shoot its flame at Toothless.

Before it can do anything, though, Toothless spits a small blob of plasma right into its open mouth. Surprised, the Terror's eyes snap wide open, as it falls back from the impact. Smoking from its ears and mouth, it dizzily totters about. Partly out of pity, and partly because I didn't want Toothless to burn the poor thing to a crisp, I open up one of my warmed packs of field rations and toss it over to the dragon. It curiously examines the green package, then tears it open with its claws, and swallows the contents whole. Full, it looks at me with its large round eyes, and cuddles up against me.

A smile forms on my face, and my hand subconsciously runs itself over the scales of the Terror. This one, strangely, isn't aggressive like the one I faced in the ring. The look on its face is one of peace and serenity; what girls would find to be cute, I believe. Its skin feels warm to the touch, and does not give off any feeling of hostility. I wouldn't have been able to imagine this any time before this, but it was strange in a good way. I don't think any other person in my camp would be able to experience or truly appreciate this feeling, due to their attitudes against the dragons. But they misunderstand…

Everything we know about you… is wrong.


	12. D'accordo e Dissidio

**Chapter 12: **_**D'accordo e Dissidio(1)**_

_Installation 83-RK, 2100hrs  
LCP Jack Haddock_

I am in my bunk, making little adjustments to my visor. The rest of my platoon is out at the recreation block, and the commanding officers are busy with recuperating the losses from the failed search mission. This effectively gives me time alone for the next couple of hours. I don't need anyone to discover or question me about my little projects, at least not this one.

Linking up the visor to my laptop, I key in lines of programming code to smoothen out a few wireless connection issues between the visor and the systems on Toothless' harness. I sharpen the text on the HUD with some manual tweaks to the projection system, and code in automatic missile countermeasure systems to work with the soon-to-be-installed flare dispensers on the harness – ever since that incident with the SAM earlier today, I've been desperately working at this. I don't wish for anymore close calls with high explosives a thousand feet in the air. Just in case, I also program in compatibility for additional armaments that could be attached to the hardpoints on the harness. For kicks, I sync all my Techno and Eurobeat albums into the newly-expanded 8 GB of memory space. Smiling, I look at the row of my platoon mates' 10th-generation iPods docked and charging by the side of the room while awaiting completion of the transfer.

Who needs iPod apps when I can fly a Night Fury with this thing?

"Callsign 'Hiccup' please report to the Commanding Officer's office by 2130hrs. Repeat, personnel callsign 'Hiccup' please report to the Commanding Officer's office. 2130hrs." The smooth, automated female voice echoes across the camp, through the PA system. Surprised at the sudden call, I hurriedly stow and lock up my visor once the music transfer is complete. Slamming my laptop shut, I rush out of the bunk while putting on my uniform and boots; my dad's office isn't near, getting there would take at least twenty minutes.

I run my mind through the past one week, wondering what I did wrong. Aside from having my face buried between the breasts of the girl I love for about four seconds, I can't think of anything else that can be held against me; even then I doubt 3SG Astrid would have bothered with that… I think. She still hasn't spoken to me, and every time I look at her, she turns away. There was no reason for me to be called to my dad's office if I screwed nothing up… unless…

Toothless.

My heart leaping to my throat at the thought that lingers in my mind, I walk faster.

_

* * *

_

Commander's Office, 2125hrs

"Come in," That deep, booming voice I haven't heard for the past week seems so familiar yet again. Stepping into the office, I see the General looking out of his window at the base. He beckons for me to go over to him. From here, the bright moonlight bathes the buildings in a blue glow, dotted with lights from individual windows and floodlights lighting up high-security areas. A beautiful view, if I may say so. Almost every corner of the base can be observed from up here, though I rarely get to enjoy it whenever I am up here.

Turning to me, he has a serious, cold look on his face. "Do you know why I called you here, son?"

"No, Sir."

"You've been keeping secrets." My heart momentarily stops beating. Cold fear grips my legs, as I try to stutter out a reply, "Uh… I… I have?"

"Just how long did you think you could hide it from me?" My palms are turning sweaty, and my pulse is racing. This is not good. Not good at all. I continue feigning innocence, "I… I don't know… what you're talking about…"

"NOTHING HAPPENS in this zone without me hearing about it." Oh shit… this is the end for me...

"So, let's talk." He pauses for dramatic effect, "About that dragon."

My legs nearly give way; I am resigned to my fate, I was probably going to get charged for 'fraternizing with the enemy' or 'going against company policy', and Toothless was probably going to be hunted down… my mind a mess, I weakly reply. "Oh god… no… Dad, I'm so sorry… I was going to tell you… I… I just didn't know how to…"

Suddenly, the General's face relaxes, changing into an expression of mirth as he bursts out in loud, bellowing laughter. Confused, I can only follow suit with a feigned laugh of my own. I look around, just in case this is another episode of Candid Camera or Punk'd. Nope, no camera, no videos to upload on Youtube. "Ha... ha... so you're not upset?"

"What? I was hoping for this!" I think we're on completely different wavelengths yet again... "You... were?"

"Believe me, it only gets better! Just wait till you blow a hole through a Nadder's head for the first time, and when you bayonet your first Gronckle... What a feeling!" He sure seems elated about my success in the ring. Why shouldn't he be excited? After all, his son was finally, in his eyes, doing something right for once. I shuffle nervously on the spot, knowing the truth behind my continuous success is that age-old piece of advice from Sun Tzu, 'Know thy enemy'. Not knowing what to say, I let my father continue.

"You really had me going there, son! All those years of the worst combatant we've ever seen; God, it was rough, and to tell the truth, I almost gave up on you. Turns out all this time you've been holding out on me, Lord Almighty!" Coming closer, he places his hand firmly on my shoulder. With all the happiness that a proud father could muster, he smiles warmly at me. "With you doing so well in the course, we finally have something in common to talk about."

He sits me down on the chair right next to him, as he grabs one for himself. I look at him, and he stares back expectantly. Under his stare, I fidget, not knowing what to do.

Ten seconds of awkward silence follows. It feels like an eternity. My father finally breaks the ice. "Oh... I, uh, got something for you."

He hands me a switchblade, contained within folds of silk within a steel box. It has an ivory handle, intricately carved with a design that was distinctly East Asian in influence, accompanied by a number of grooves on its side indicating its possible use as a bayonet to be attached to guns. With the press of a button, the sharp, polished blade springs forth smoothly. The blade reflects the surrounding light flawlessly, giving it an almost ethereal glow; it is made from some odd material that was definitely not a metal. It appears to be jade or emerald, but it is too light to be a gemstone. The General continues speaking, "Something to keep you safe in the ring; your mother would have wanted you to have it, it was one of her prized dragon fang knives."

My jaw goes slack. This blade was made out of the bone of a dead dragon, one that my mother killed. In my hands, the feel of the switchblade is a mix between amazing and terrifying. Amazing because of its intricate design and craftsmanship; but terrifying because of its grisly nature as a product from beyond the grave. Tentatively, I place it back into it case. "Um… Thanks, dad."

"You're welcome. You deserve it. You've held up your end of the deal." Beaming proudly, he sighs and gives me a warm, fatherly look; the first one I've had in a long time. Wishing to end this awkward encounter quickly (I still had some modifications to my equipment to be settled before the rest of my platoon returns), I excuse myself from the office. "Well, I'd better get back to the bunk, I've got another session of training tomorrow…"

"Yes, yes… Good talk… and, I'll see you tomorrow morning." As if he was also glad for the end of the tense moment, my father gets up and follows me over to the door.

After the door shuts behind me, I heave a sigh of relief. Holding the box carrying the switchblade, I take a quick jog back to the bunk.

* * *

_Dragon Combat Training Area, 1100hrs  
3SG Astrid Hofferson_

It's the finals match between Hiccup and I. For the past week, Hiccup has somehow managed to eke himself up the scoreboard, putting him at second place behind me in the class rankings. This placed the two of us in this final session, and the winner for today would be the one to receive the glory of taking his or her (I prefer to think that it would be the latter) first Dragon life. This match is being televised throughout the camp, meaning that almost everyone is able to watch you kick ass or get your ass kicked. For me, I plan to win this. My stubborn attitude won't give up to some underdog; From the beginning, I was the favourite to win, and I intend to live up to that.

We are pitted up against a full-grown Gronckle, one that is hungry and irritated. The battle course for today is a simple layout of barricades, forcing us to face the dragon down in direct combat. Not that I was complaining or anything; it only makes it easier for me to take it down. However, I remain hidden for now, waiting for the perfect chance to strike; the Gronckle's rock-hard skin will make it hard for my bullets to penetrate, but if I can just get it to reveal its soft underbelly to me, a sufficiently-long burst of fire should do the trick. I wasn't going to take any chances today, so in addition to my usual submachine guns, I had with me an additional SAR-21 bullpup assault rifle (2) that I kept as a spare. Accurate, reliable and tough, I found this Singapore-made rifle to my liking for use in medium- to long-range situations.

Leaping from cover to cover, I bump into Hiccup, who is hiding behind his fireproof shield, shotgun held at the ready. Bloody camper. Shoving his shield down so I could speak to him, I glare straight into his eyes.

"Stay the hell out of my way. I'm winning this."

Not bothering to wait for a reply, I vault over him, and fire a couple of shots at the Gronckle. The bullets ping off its scales, and attract its attention. It returns fire, blowing apart the barricade I was hiding behind before I dive away, while emptying another SAR-21 magazine at it. I also toss out a flashbang grenade, intending to stun it for now, while I got ready my final attack. I lean against an intact low wall, slinging my SAR-21 and cocking my P90s.

This time… This time, for sure!

The grenade goes off, and I immediately throw myself over the wall, yelling out a battle cry as I went along.

To my horror, before I can even fire a single shot, I hear a loud thud, and the Gronckle collapses on the ground, Hiccup standing sheepishly next to it. My mind goes blank. The realization comes to me like a tsunami, crashing down on my ego and my sanity. I completely lose it. In front of the camp television broadcast system.

"NO! NO! GOD FUCKING DAMN IT! HOW THE FUCKING HELL DID THE MOTHER FUCKING SON OF A BITCH..." Dropping my guns, I grab my hair and I let loose a string of curses and swear words, cutting loose all my inhibitions to vent my anger. How was this possible? I've trained so hard for this, and I get beaten by HIM, of all people? The cheers are deafening, and they only add to my frustration, a blinding roar of noise.

"Can I go now? I'm kinda late for…" The little bastard tries to slip away from the attention, but I grab his collar, yanking him back and throttling him by the neck, infuriated and demanding an answer, "LATE? LATE FOR WHAT, EXACTLY?"

"Hold on… hold on!" Sgt. Gobber's voice echoes over the announcement system, calming down the live audience while the overall results were tabulated and scored. Composing myself, I held my breath; maybe I could still win by points.

"The top cadet for this batch – Lance Corporal Jack Haddock," Sgt. Gobber announces the final results, to my utmost disbelief. This has to be a nightmare. Seething, I turn to Hiccup, a look of utter hate burning into his eyes. He flinches, but before I can do anything, he is swept up by a group of his new fans.

"Congratulations, Hiccup! You get to kill the dragon!"

I pick up my guns, and withdraw away from all the chaos. I will get my vengeance for what you've done to me. I swear on it.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. And I am going to unleash more than just fiery hell on you, Jack.

* * *

**(1) - Translated literally, it means 'Agreement and Conflict', I think.  
(2) - For those not familiar with this rifle, do check it out on Wikipedia. Developed in Singapore and adopted by the Singapore Armed Forces as the standard-issue rifle. It is sold for export use aside from domestic use.**


	13. Discovery

**Chapter 13: Discovery**

_Abandoned Settlement/Oasis, 1700hrs  
3SG Jack Haddock_

Oh my god. I can't believe this is happening. I actually topped the DCSC. I got a promotion to 3rd Sergeant, and I get to kill the dragon. I am so… so…

Leaving.

I'm taking Toothless, and going for a little vacation… forever. I've packed two weeks' worth of dry rations, along with all the basic military supplies I can gather from my own stores. I also have two loaded magazines, along with my pistol. Useful for hunting wild animals after my rations are finished. I'll figure out what else to do when the time comes.

I can't believe I actually did it. Why didn't I just let Astrid take the victory? I kick myself, wondering what in the world possessed me to knock that Gronckle out back at the training grounds. Perhaps it was my wish to satisfy my father's pride, or maybe it was my survival instinct. That dragon was coming straight at me, wasn't it? It would have killed me, right? In retrospect, maybe I should have just let that dragon attack me… I might be in traction for a month, but hey, at least I won't have to worry how to take down an angry, flaming Monstrous Nightmare.

"Buddy? Hey, Toothless… We're leaving, let's pack up…" I call out for Toothless, while putting down my field pack to let my shoulders rest for a while. I adjust my harness and take out my visor from my bag.

_Click. _

The sound of a multiple-chamber swing-out cylinder being loaded into a revolver startles me, and I spin around, only to look down the ten-inch long barrel of a Smith & Wesson 629. Recoiling in shock, I nearly fall back, dropping my visor in the process. "WHADDAFU… Uh, Sarge… Astrid… ah-wah-what are you… ah… doing here?"

"I want to know what's going on." Pressing the .44 Magnum revolver against my forehead, Astrid begins her interrogation. I can tell she's pissed over her loss (Why thank you, Captain Obvious!). Wholly aware that she could blow a smoking hole in my head and splatter my brains all over the sand, I shut up and comply with her every action, hands in the air in a sign of surrender the whole time. "No one just _GETS_ as good as you do… _ESPECIALLY_ you."

"I know what you're thinking: 'How many bullets are left in there? Back at the ring, did she fire six shots or only five?' But to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I've kinda lost track myself. But being this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel lucky?' WELL DO YA, PUNK?"

"So start talking. Are you training with someone?" She circles me like an angry lion waiting to pounce, gun aimed squarely at my head the whole time. I can only stutter out half-assed responses. I can't give away the fact that I was taking lessons from a dragon; they would only kill Toothless if they found out. Time ticking away, I try to distract Astrid, but her gun remains trained at me no matter what I do. Yanking my harness in suspicion, she pulls me closer to the loaded revolver. It's the worst time for my thoughts to go haywire, but I notice that she smells of jasmine. "Whatever you're doing, it better not involve _this_…"

"I know… this… looks really bad… but, this is a…"

Suddenly, a loud noise draws her attention away. Reflexes taking over, Astrid tosses me onto the ground, and raises her gun. No… Toothless! I get up, rushing forward to stop her before anything else happens. I grab her shoulders and try to shield her view. "You're right! You're right… I'm through with the lies… I've been, uh… Cosplaying! Yeah, you know, that crazy Japanese hobby? So, yeah, you got me, it's time everyone knew; drag me back, go ahead, here we go…"

Executing a flawless death grip on my wrist, Astrid twists my arm away from her shoulder. I hear a crack as my shoulder is nearly dislocated, and I collapse to the ground in pain. "OW! Why would you DO that?"

"THAT'S for the lies…" She counters curtly, slamming her boot into my chest and knocking the air out of me. She follows up with a swift pistol-whip to my head, "… and THAT'S for everything else."

A low grows resonates around the ruins. Oh man, this is not good. I try to get up, but I am dizzy from the pain and blunt trauma. I make out the vague shape of a dark shadow leaping across the ruins towards us. No, Toothless… don't!

I am knocked to the ground yet again by Astrid, who is yelling for me to get down. She cocks her weapon as Toothless pounces towards her. Finally mustering enough strength, I tackle her to the ground, grab her revolver and toss it across the ground, away from Toothless. Putting myself between the agitated dragon and a very shocked girl, I flail my arms, trying to calm Toothless down, "It's okay! I'm fine! She's afraid, she's a friend…"

Toothless backs down, but still bares his teeth, keeping a slit eye on Astrid, suspicious of her. I hold him back some more, to prevent him from attacking. "You scared him…"

"I scared HIM?" Astrid is understandably disturbed and shaken, "Wait… who is 'Him'?"

I suppose this would be a good time for introductions… Gesturing appropriately, I try to bridge communications. "Astrid, Toothless; Toothless, Astrid…"

He snarls threateningly at her, baring his razor sharp teeth. Not the best way to make friends, Toothless. Astrid gives me a look of utter horror, and I could have sworn there was a hint of feeling betrayed in those eyes. Turning away, she dashes off in the direction of the base.

"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" Toothless turns away nonchalantly, completely ignoring me. Doesn't he realize the gravity of the situation?

We're dead.

* * *

_3SG Astrid Hofferson_

Oh my god. I can't believe this is happening. How is that even possible? How dare he keep that dragon a secret from the rest of the world? Moreover, it's a Night Fury, the most dangerous and deadly of them all… This is so… so…

Surreal.

A mix of fear and desperation grips me, and the only thing I can do is to run for my life. I have to inform someone, some officer at least. Would this constitute an action against company policy? I don't know for sure, but I know for a fact that he's in real deep shit now. Whatever he's doing, it's not right, and I have to stop him...

My hands reach for both my cellphone and my Smith & Wesson, both tucked in their respective holsters. One in each hand, I dial the number of the camp Operations Centre. I keep my gun at the ready, but I doubt it would be of much use anyway. To my chagrin, I am greeted by a long beep indicating poor network signals; I try again and again, but no matter what I do, I can't get any calls out. Damn it, what's wrong? Reception is usually fine, even out here. I give up, and decide to just run faster.

"It's no use Astrid; I've jammed radio communications for a one-kilometer radius. I'm sorry, but I can't let you do this." I suddenly hear Hiccup's voice behind me. A large shadow falls upon me, before I am jerked upwards into the air by a black set of claws. At the sight of the ground falling away at my feet, I can only scream in a mix of shock and fear. The wind howls past my ears, and combined with the heavy beating of scaly wings, my voice is drowned out.

"OOOOOH GOD! OH SHIT! OH NO! I'M ONLY EIGHTEEN! I STILL HAVEN'T FOUND A BOYFRIEND! PLEASE OH GOD NOOOOO-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…" I'm blurting out expletives and incoherent phrases as my legs dangle over nearly forty meters of thin air, flailing about, hopelessly looking for something solid to rest on. I shut my eyes tightly, not daring to look down. I'm screaming so hard I swear I feel my lungs tearing apart. My arms grapple at whatever they can find; never mind that they are holding on to cold scales, I sure as hell didn't want to die yet!

Suddenly, I feel myself being dropped. Shocked, I open my eyes to see that the dragon has released me on the top of a tall rock formation, with what seems to be a thousand feet between me and a painful death. My hands reach out for the nearest object that I can feel, and I manage to grab hold onto a thankfully convenient stone protruding from the surface. Looking up, I notice the Night Fury perched atop, with the bastard riding comfortably on it. I shoot Hiccup a threatening look, unsuccessfully trying to hide my fear, as I anxiously look down. I tighten my grip, but I'm close to losing it, both physically and mentally. "HICCUP! GET… GET ME DOWN FROM HERE!"

"Please, you have to give me a chance to explain…"

"I AM NOT LISTENING TO ANYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY!" Fine, since you don't want to help me, I'll just have to get down myself. Cautiously, I try climbing down.

"Then I won't speak… Just let me show you." He offers his hand to me. Is he mocking me?

"Please, Astrid."

My foothold crumbles under my weight, and I slip a little. Hiccup jerks forward, hoping to catch me, but I slap his arm away; I manage to stabilize myself quickly. I don't need his help, I can handle this myself … alright, fine…

He seems genuinely concerned with that look of worry on his face, and sensing as I had no other choice, I reluctantly take his hand. How did he not get himself killed doing this? Plus, I can't believe Hiccup actually managed to construct this elaborate harness without bringing attention to his self. Pulling myself up onto the saddled dragon, I recoil a little as the dragon lets out a low growl.

I settle myself onto the seat as comfortable as possible, still rather suspicious of his motives.

"Now get me down…"

"Toothless, down… gently…" Petting the dragon's head, Hiccup instructs it to bring us down. I still can't believe this, and I am fully expecting the dragon to disobey as it spreads out its wings.

Hiccup seems to think otherwise, "See? Nothing to be afraid of…"

Whew. At least I'm still alive. What more do I have to lose, anyway?


	14. How to Touch The Stars

**Chapter 14: How to Touch the Stars**

_Afghan Airspace, 1730hrs  
3SG Jack Haddock_

"See? Nothing to be afraid of…" I try to impart some of my confidence to Astrid, who is now sitting uneasily behind me. She looks warily at Toothless; I can't blame her for not trusting us. After all, we did abduct her and hold her against her will. Whatever the case, I have to let her in on the truth now.

She has to understand, the dragons aren't murderous beasts… they're merely misunderstood. Smiling, I gently pat Toothless behind his ears, where my installed radar systems are. First things first, let's get down. His wings spread, I lean forward and change gears with the pedals, getting ready for a gentle descent.

I am completely not expecting what the stupid dragon does next.

All of a sudden, we are shot into the air at breakneck speed. Wings flapping furiously, Toothless drives us further and further towards the sky. The wind roars past my ears, as I observe the altitude counter on my visor rising rapidly. Yanking on the harness, I attempt to command him to stop. No use, and I couldn't switch gears now, as doing so would only cause us to fall out of the sky. Behind me, Astrid is screaming her lungs out yet again, making it really hard for me to concentrate.

"Hold on, we're going in the wrong direction, you idiot! What's wrong with you?" What the hell is the damn dragon doing?

Toothless finally stops his rapid ascent. As we level out, I turn back to make sure Astrid is still with us. She is visibly shaken, eyes as wide as plates, face pale with fright. I sheepishly try to calm her down as her hands move to hold on tightly to my shoulders. I hadn't considered the possibility of a second rider, so no additional handholds or straps were installed. "Ah, sorry, he's usually not like this…"

I notice Toothless close his wings and lean rightwards. Oh no…

He lets gravity take over, initiating a free-fall of terror towards the ground. I am used enough to this to not feel much dizziness or nausea, but now really isn't the time! Astrid goes into another screaming fit and tightens her grip around my waist. I blush as I feel a softness press up against my back. Shaking away ridiculous thoughts I return my focus to the dire situation at hand. "What are you doing Toothless? We need her to LIKE US!"

Before we hit the ground, Toothless re-extends his wings and executes a perfect Hi-G turn upwards. I feel the blood rush from my head, but thankfully I regain my stability quickly. We return to climbing into the clouds, before…

"And now, the spinning…" I can only comment sarcastically on the obvious as Toothless performs a seemingly endless series of barrel rolls and aerial acrobatics seen during those airshows put on by air forces around the world.

Thank you for nothing, you useless reptile.

Gravity takes over again as the dragon spins, flips and spins some more towards the ground, threatening to smash all of us against the hard sandy floor. What the hell is he thinking?

"I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY! JUST PLEASE, GET ME OFF OF THIS THING!" My heart wrenches as I hear Astrid on the verge of tears, cutting loose from her usually serious, hardy and proud nature. I feel guilty, making her cry like that; this ride must have been a real torture session for her. At the same time, I am partially relieved; maybe she understands after all?

As if finally understanding my situation, Toothless regains control over himself, extending his wings and leveling us out just mere metres above the ground. Calmly, he slowly carries us up in a steady, gradual flight towards the setting sun. Cruising along a warm current of wind, the experience is worlds apart from the thrill ride a couple of minutes ago. I exhale, letting out a sigh of relief. Astrid still hasn't let go, but deep down, I am hoping she doesn't. To be honest, I wish this moment will never end. Her arms wrap perfectly around my waist, hands grabbing tightly to my harness. My shoulder seems to be a nice fit for her head, which is currently pressed against my neck. Her hair still smells wonderful; the highly inappropriate question of which shampoo she uses suddenly pops into my head. Stupid hormones.

Why are girls so awesome?

_

* * *

__3SG Astrid Hofferson_

The squall that blasted my cheeks turns onto a gentle, calm breeze all of a sudden. Am I dead? My eyes are still shut, not daring to open. I am still holding on tightly to Hiccup, frightened that if I let go, I would fall off the dragon to a messy death. I don't care if he's choking, he deserves it for what he's done to me. The fact that I was riding on a bloody Night Fury is enough to classify this experience as a really bad dream… except that it isn't one.

After a few seconds, I slowly open my eyes, releasing my grip on Hiccup. Thank God I did. Squinting as the light from the orange sun casts across my face, I gasp, taken aback by the magnificent sight. The sky is painted in warm hues of red, yellow and purple. As if sponges used to soak up excess dye that Mother Nature used for her masterpiece on the sky, the sporadic clouds have transformed from white cotton balls to multi-coloured puffs streaked with pink and orange floating amongst a finished canvas.

I was definitely dead, and in heaven. Never before have I seen such beauty. This was a whole new world; shining, shimmering and splendid.

The dragon slowly makes its ascent. However, this time it is graceful, and exhilarating in a good way. I subconsciously place my hands back onto Hiccup's shoulders, still enthralled by the brilliance before me. I remove my legs from around Hiccup's waist, blushing at the realization that they had been in that awkward position all this time. I feel him relax under my touch, becoming more confident, less tense.

The cool wind caresses my skin, magically releasing all tension that had built up. Letting my eyes wander, I take in this new fantastic point of view. I lose myself completely to the serenity of the moment; there was no one to tell me no, or where to go, or say that I'm only dreaming.

We reach the cloudline, and the dragon flies parallel to it, causing the thin layer of suspended moisture to just brush over our heads. In our wake, the clouds form intricate geometric shapes. As a little girl fascinated with Disney and its classic princess tales, I've always imagined this feeling; but ever since I joined military service, these fleeting desires were tucked aside to make way for the bloody reality of the battlefield. This evening, it seems that the little girl in me has re-awaked, and I can't help but reach out with one hand.

For the first time in a long while, a wide, genuine smile forms across my face as my hand draws shapes in the fluffy clouds. Never have I felt so at peace before. Giggling as the moisture runs down my bare arm, I extend the other one, to let it enjoy the same tingling sensation. Both hands above my head, I close my eyes to fully savour this feeling.

The dragon takes us higher, bursting through the layer of clouds. The dying rays of sunlight reflect and refract through the clouds, projecting a stunning visual show of lights and colours on the screen that was the twilight sky. Industrial Lights and Magic has nothing on this. My head is permanently locked in position, eyes glued to the dancing rainbows.

The lightshow slowly fades away with the setting of the sun, to reveal the stars dotting the dark night. It was an indescribable feeling; soaring, tumbling and freewheeling through this endless diamond sky. This really was a whole new world. I didn't dare close my eyes; there was a hundred thousand things to see. Holding my breath, I can only expect it to get better.

And it did. Fading away like the curtains before a Broadway musical, the clouds reveal yet another pleasant surprise. Sitting on the horizon, sparkling like a crystal model, was Installation 83-RK. Lit by room lights and security beams from guard posts, the base forms a conglomeration of diamonds in an intricate arrangement, gems among the darkness of the desert sand. I gasp softly, and let my arms wrap around Hiccup once more, while a warm, fuzzy feeling consumes me. I rest my head on his shoulder, smiling as I take in the spectacular, breathtaking scene in front of me.

I look up for a moment, and I see Hiccup as I've never seen him before. I've never noticed this previously, but Hiccup has grown up. While he hasn't lost the features of his childhood, his face has become more… defined. Maybe it was the glow of the stars, but he actually looked handsome for once. Not strikingly handsome; just good-looking, with an assuring face that said 'I'll be there for you, no matter what.' My face reddens at this thought. Sighing against the warmth of his body, I hug him closer to me. He's come a long way since our childhood days. Smiling in contentment, I close my eyes and relish the moment.

Maybe there's more to him than meets the eye. Like a shooting star, I've come so far; I can't go back to where I used to be…

"I've got to admit," I break the long silence that had been there since this magic carpet ride started, "This is pretty cool. It's… amazing."

Looking at the dragon, I give it a warm smile, "_He's_ amazing…."

I feel a drop of wetness roll down the side of my cheek. The emotions come flooding out of my system, overwhelming me. Joy, sorrow, but most of all, _guilt_. Before today, I had treated dragons like devils; evil beings meant to be destroyed in the most painful way possible. But looking at the obsidian reptile before me, I can no longer believe that. How is it possible that no one has discovered this side of them? Have we been wrong this whole time?

And it's not just the dragon that I feel guilty towards.

Hiccup… no, Jack. Just a few hours ago, I had actually thought of killing him. I was so consumed by rage and jealousy that I had forgotten what he was – a childhood partner. I had distanced him ever since we began combat training; he screwed up everything, and I didn't want to be associated with a loser. I thought that he was weak.

How wrong I was. I realize now that Jack was the strong one; I was weak. Weak because I treated him like dirt, weak because I was afraid of having someone weaker than me surpass my abilities, weak because I didn't bother to discover my own truths in life.

"I'm so sorry… Jack, I'm so sorry…" my voice cracking, a lump forms in my throat as the sorrow and guilt overwhelms me. Hugging him closer, I cry silently into the back of his shirt. At the sight of tears rolling down my face, Jack is shocked. Extending his arm around my shoulders, he offers a comforting embrace, one hand still on the harness, "It's okay, Astrid… I… It's okay…"

At this realization, a warm, indefinable emotion fills my heart. I find myself wanting to be closer to Jack. He is emotionally much stronger than I ever was; his smiles and daily jokes were all a facade, a masquerade to hide his true feelings. He had always been looked down upon; the pain and pressure he must have experienced must have been inconceivable. I would never have imagined that true happiness could have been a possibility for him with that kind of life. But the joy he showed while riding the dragon, now that was the truth. He had let down his shield for me; shown me and shared with me a wondrous place. He had opened his sanctuary for me; let me into his own world.

I can be physically strong, but I am still a girl with emotional needs. I need someone strong to protect me. Maybe, just maybe, Jack was that special someone.


	15. Inferno

**Chapter 15: Inferno**

_Afghan Airspace, 1945hrs  
3SG Jack Haddock_

Seeing Astrid right next to me, I am reminded of our childhood days; we used to be so close to each other. She was always so strong, always the better one of the two of us. She was the one who always had to protect me, rescue me from trouble. I was the weight on her shoulders.

But I didn't want it to stay that way. I tried my best, but it always ended up the same way. Eventually she distanced herself from me; I can understand why, and I didn't complain. I wanted her to seek her own happiness without being burdened by me. And now, seeing her cry makes me hurt so much inside, because I don't know what to do to make her feel better. All I can do is to offer a shoulder for her to cry on. Under her tough exterior, she really was just a girl who wanted someone to love her.

I want to change the world, such that it doesn't hurt her anymore. Don't cry, Astrid – I'll always be here for you. I'll do whatever it takes to protect you, because I love you. I always have.

We continue flying quietly along, with only the steady beat of Toothless' wings against the wind.

Finally, Astrid breaks the silence with a whispered "Thank you."

"So what now?" The question lingers in the air like an axe waiting to drop, despite her soft, soothing voice. My shoulders slump, despair taking over. I had hoped to get away from it, but I realize that running away won't solve anything. It's suddenly very cold. I'm stuck with this sickening dilemma.

"Hiccup, your final test is tomorrow… you know you're going to have to… to kill a dragon," Astrid whispers that last phrase under her breath, not wanting Toothless to hear her. Choking, I reply, dejection in my voice, "Please… don't remind me…"

I am cut off, as Toothless suddenly veers sharply to the right. Astrid tenses up, grip intensifying yet again. We enter a fog so dense I cannot see beyond five meters. "Toothless… What's happening?"

Ears twitching, neck jerking in various directions, Toothless weaves left and right, as if avoiding invisible pursuers.

My visor is going haywire. The HUD is jerky, fading in and out of view, and the silence of the headphones gives way to the crackles of static noise. The radar on my visor suddenly emits beeping noises, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Blinking red dots begin to appear all over the projected HUD. Multiple heat signatures are being detected all over the area… Missiles? I gulp anxiously. No, they're moving too slowly to be missiles or planes…

Out of nowhere, a large shadow zips past us. I quickly identify its features; it's a Monstrous Nightmare. Astrid recognizes it as well, and the two of us crouch forward, bracing ourselves against Toothless. My pulse quickens so much, I am afraid the other dragons may hear it. I feel Astrid's heavy, nervous breath against my ear; well, at least I'm not the only one crapping in my pants at this moment. Toothless swerves to avoid a collision, but banks in the opposite direction almost immediately as a Nadder suddenly bursts through the darkness.

I switch off my visor; the electromagnetic interference was getting too strong, rendering my HUD, radar and GPS practically useless. As the static cleared, I gasp in alarm at the surrounding view. More and more dragons were appearing out of the fog, forming hundreds of black, ominous shadows and silhouettes. The growls and screeches were deafening along with the roar of wings. The feeling of claustrophobia begins to creep upon me.

"What… What's going on," Astrid's wavering voice gives away the tension and fear she is experiencing. . She looks at me nervously, searching for an answer; I can give her none, I am as clueless as she is about what is going on. The frustration at my own lack of situational awareness adds to my already-high stress levels. I know both of us wanted to get out of here alive, but even I can't convince Toothless to help us escape.

"Toothless, you've got to get us out of here…" Snorting, he ignores me with a shake of his head, knocking aside my hand. A bead of sweat rolls down from my forehead. This was getting to be a really sticky situation. Another Nightmare flies uncomfortably close to us, and I notice an object in its claws… a dead camel? My God… looking all around, it turns out all of them have some sort of livestock or dead carcass in their claws or jaws.

They are hauling in their kill.

Astrid gave me a look of desperation. I could tell what she was thinking, 'What does that make us?'

I notice her reach for her revolver. Can't blame her, but I was really hoping that she fully trusts us by now. Thankfully, she stops and pulls back her hand. I silently smile, taking that as a good sign.

Toothless, buddy, I really hope you're on our side now. Please, don't betray our trust in you.

Perhaps it was because Toothless was a Night Fury, the deadliest and most feared of the dragons, that we haven't been attacked by the others yet; I can feel some cold stares on me, the hairs on the back of my neck bristling under the gaze of dragons unfamiliar to me. Astrid scoots closer to me, trying to get as close as possible, her arms shifting over my torso.

Without warning, all the dragons initiate a sharp dive. A short yell of surprise escapes us, as Toothless picks up speed, while levelling out before we hit the ground. Swerving to avoid rock formations that protruded out of the ground, Toothless glides smoothly through the maze, as if he has known this path for a long time. We eventually reach a large, smoking fissure in the ground, and all the dragons disappeared into the darkness. Even before we enter, I can feel the heat from within the crack, as if it were a gateway into Inferno itself.

"_All hope abandon, ye who enter in! Here all suspicion needs must be abandoned; All cowardice must needs be here extinct. __We to the place have come, where I have told thee; Thou shalt behold the people dolorous; Who have foregone the good of intellect."_ My stomach churns as I recall these lines of Canto III, Inferno of Dante's Divine Comedy (1). Great literature as it was, it really isn't the most encouraging piece of writing to think of at this time. Through the proverbial Gates of Hell, I notice the change in atmosphere; the cold, melancholic environment of Purgatorio is replaced by the red-hot fumes and crimson glowing flames of Inferno. In every nook and cranny, there are dragons. Hiding in cracks, hanging on walls, perching on overhangs; they are everywhere, hundreds, maybe even thousands of them. The realisation hits me – this is their nest, their stronghold.

What my dad wouldn't give to find this.

Toothless silently lands on a ledge and hides behind a boulder, melting into the shadows. I heave a sigh of relief. Thanks, buddy. Our heads peek out over the edge, quietly observing the dragons. Strange, every single one of them cast their catch down into the smoky crevasse; none of them kept any food for themselves. They just come in, throw the food 'down the well', and find a comfortable spot. The irony of the situation doesn't sit well with me, "Well, it's satisfying to know that all our food is being dumped down a hole…"

"Why are they not eating any of it?" Just when she thought this day can't get any more surprising; it seems life wants to spring a good one today for Astrid.

A small, staggering Gronckle catches our attention. Buzzing over to the smoky chasm, it regurgitates a single, small desert rat. Seemingly pleased with itself, it reaches behind its ear, scratching a spot there, before attempting to flutter away.

A deep, rumbling growl sounds from the depths of the abyss, causing the ground we are standing on to shake. The entire cavern is drowned in a resounding silence. Suddenly, a massive, grey-green reptilian head bursts forth from the smoke, colossal jaws crashing mercilessly onto the Gronckle, swallowing it whole. The two of us humans freeze in terror, as the rest of the dragons cowered into the darkness.

"What… is that thing?" Astrid's petrified whisper hangs in the air, another question I don't have an answer to. My mouth is dry from the shock.

Holy Mother of God. That monster… behemoth… leviathan-thing makes Godzilla look like a freaking gecko! I silently hope that everything goes back to the way it was half a minute ago, but no dice. The leviathan stops and snarls, sniffing at the air.

Shit.

"Alright, bud, we're getting out of here," Toothless acknowledges, as a plan forms in my head. Quickly, I switch on my visor and activate the missile countermeasure systems on Toothless' harness. Pulling and releasing the charging handle, I prepare the flares and sonic interference jammers. My hands fly across the equipment, and my legs tense up, ready to activate the tail fin. Turning to Astrid, I hand her a spare flash grenade I keep on my own flight vest. She nods, understanding my motives.

The leviathan's nostrils twitch and its snout jerks in our direction, having discovered our location.

"NOW!" On my cue, Toothless launches himself off the ledge, just as large fangs the size of zweihänders close around the boulder. Astrid tosses the grenade and it goes off, illuminating the darkness and throwing the dragons into a confused frenzy. Deafening screeches and roars fill the cave as the dragons take flight to escape the dominating behemoth's wrath. I yell at Astrid to cover her ears as I release a high-pitched sonic wave, distracting the dragons and repelling them away from Toothless. I had designed it such that Toothless isn't affected by it, so we are able to continue our flight to freedom. At the same time, I fire off flares and bursts of fireworks to throw off the monster's aim some more. The explosions cast a bright glow around the cavern, illuminating a direct path for us out here. Blinded and angry, the beast thrashes its head about, roaring so loudly the vibrations cause some parts of the cave to crumble. In its rage, it consumes yet another few dragons unlucky enough to be in range of its jaws.

Shooting out of the fissure with the speed his species is famed for, Toothless flew straight towards the night sky, rapidly leaving the nest behind us, letting it fade into the horizon.

At a safe distance, I deactivated the systems on the harness and wipe away the sweat on my brow. The adrenaline subsides, and once again I notice Astrid's arms wrapped snugly around my waist.

"Hey… are you alright? I'm sorry if you got scared, or hurt… Urk!" In the middle of my sentence, she suddenly tightens her grip, knocking the air out of me. Suffocating, I attempt to turn around, shocked. Damn, how often does she do those strength workouts?

"Idiot! What makes you think I was scared… well, yeah, maybe just a little…? No! I wasn't scared!" She releases me slightly, and a little smile creeps across my face when I notice her blushing face. A low growl from Toothless, sounding like a chuckle, causes the redness to intensify.

She really is a girl after all. But that's what makes her so cute, I suppose. What was that Japanese term again? Ah, yes… _tsundere _(2).

"Well, forgive me for being overly concerned, Sarge," My voice turns grave and serious when I recall the events of today, as we descend, landing softly back at the ruins, "Did you see the size of that thing? I mean, it ate other dragons!"

Her silence indicates her understanding. After a moment of deep thought, she puts two and two together, "Well, it totally makes sense now; It's like a giant beehive. They're the workers, and that's their Queen… It controls them! Let's find your dad, we have to notify the Intelligence Department!"

Slipping off Toothless, she dashes in the general direction of the base. Shocked, I run forward, grabbing her arm and stopping her.

"No!" I blurt out, "No, they… they'll kill Toothless! Astrid, we have to think this through carefully…"

I turn away, wishing she would understand, after all this while. Giving me a look of utter disbelief, Astrid yells at me, incredulity in her voice, "What? Jack, we've discovered the Dragon's Nest! The very thing that we've been looking for ever since they started attacking us! And you want to keep it a secret? To protect your _pet dragon_? Are you serious?"

Looking back at her, I firmly stand my ground. No way was I letting anyone harm Toothless. "Yes."

_

* * *

_

Abandoned Settlement/Oasis, 2100hrs  
3SG Astrid Hofferson

I break. I let my arguments dissolve into nothingness. The look of his emerald eyes pierced through the stony wall I had built around my heart, clutching it, filling it with understanding. With that one word, I had realised how much the Night Fury means to him; it is probably his best friend – his _first_ true friend in ages. To take the dragon… Toothless, was it?... away from him would be tantamount to murdering the only thing that Jack has to live for, removing his only goal in life. This decision is not mine to make; it is his, and I respect that.

This isn't the Jack we see in the base, the clumsy, careless Hiccup; this is a Jack that is hidden from the rest of us, the true brave soul encased in the cocoon that everyone mercilessly built around him. But in that cocoon, he has matured into something that far surpasses any of us.

"Okay," I give a simple reply, indicating that I understood his position. He heaves a sigh of relief, but I don't plan to leave it at that, "So what are you going to do?"

"Just… just give me until tomorrow; I'll work something out…" His brow furrows, and I can almost see the plans forming and flying across his face. I smile inwardly; Jack is a prodigy in his own right, one that we have never seen before. Again, my heart flutters as I feel the need to be closer to him. Damn hormones…

"By the way... about your revolver..." I am surprised at his request, as he looks down, embarassed, "I have to know..."

Giving him a smile of understanding, I draw my Smith & Wesson, cock it and point it towards the heavens. Jack flinches a little, as I pull the trigger.

_Click._

The hammer slams forward, but nothing else happens. Jack sighs in relief as I holster the gun. But as they say, no rest for the weary; I deliver a swift punch to his arm, for disrupting the mood. "Ow!"

"That's for kidnapping me." He turns to the dragon, a look of shock and bewilderment on his face. The dragon returns his puzzled gaze with a nonchalant shake of its head. Rubbing his arm, he looks back at me, completely unaware of my motives at this moment.

Ah… he's just too cute. I grab his collar and give him a light peck on the cheek, withdrawing as quickly as I leaned forth, ending it as soon as it began.

"And that's for..." For what? For the flight? For scaring me half to death and making me scream my lungs out? For opening the gates to his world for me? For opening my eyes and revealing the truth? The list was inexhaustible, but no single justification seemed to be more suitable than the others for that kiss. Smiling, I just finish off the statement, "...for everything else."

Might as well give him all the reasons, no point stopping at one. Before he can say anything else, I sprint off, blushing furiously. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the dumbfounded look of confusion on his face, and the dragon observing him amusedly.

When I am sure that I am a safe distance away, I bring my hands to my burning face, covering my eyes. My heart is beating faster than ever before, my breath heavy. I can't believe I did that to Jack!

My first kiss!

_**

* * *

**_

A/N - The young maiden's heart yearns for romance with her knight on a jet-black steed!  
Special Thanks to AwesomeOliver for letting me draw inspiration from her work 'To Change a State of Mind'.

**(1) - The ****Divine Comedy**_** is an epic poem written by Italian poet Dante Alighieri. On the surface, it describes Dante's travels through Hell (Inferno), Purgatory (Purgatorio) and Heaven (Paradiso), each its own part. At a deeper level, it represents allegorically the soul's journey towards God.**_

**(2) **_**- Tsundere**_**(****ツンデ****レ****) **_**is a Japanese character development process which describes a person who is initially cold and even hostile towards another person before gradually showing their warm side over time. The word is derived from the terms Tsun Tsun**_** (****ツンツン****) , **_**meaning to turn away in disgust, and Dere Dere **_**(****デレデレ****) **_**meaning to become 'lovey dovey'**_


	16. Peace Walker

**Chapter 16: Peace Walker**

_Dragon Combat Training Complex – Gladiatorial Arena, 0700hrs  
3SG Jack Haddock_

It was a restless night for me. I had a hard time sleeping, especially after the events of last night. The butterflies in my stomach for today's fight, combined with knowledge of the existence of something far worse than anything we have come up against, as well as my own resurfacing emotions for a girl, did not help at all.

Sitting on a bench in the hallway leading into the ring, I try to catch a couple of winks before the match starts. No such luck. The growing crowd outside is not making life any easier for me; even though it's still early, the stands are already packed. This is the first time they are watching a one-on-one fight to the death between a DCSC top cadet and a Monstrous Nightmare. My stomach churns in a combination of dread, fear and trepidation. On one hand, I wanted to let the world know that they have been wrong all this while, that dragons really weren't harmful at all; on the other, this was a Nightmare we're talking about – God knows if my methods would work on this particularly aggressive and fearsome species.

Outside, my father addresses the growing crowd. His booming voice projects across the arena on the speaker system. It's so loud; I can easily make out what he's saying from where I am.

"Well, I can show my face in public again!" Uproarious laughter fills the stands, the audience laughing along with the great orator my father is.

"If somebody told me that in a couple of weeks, my son Jack would have gone from being, well, Hiccup, to passing out as the top Dragon Combat Specialist, well, I would have tied him down and heli-evacuated him to the nearest mental institute, for having gone bloody mad!"

The crowd goes wild once again, before quietening down to let the General continue, "But now, there is no one more surprised… or more proud than I am."

I should feel happy about that, for having done my father proud, as a soldier and as a son, but why does my heart feel so heavy?

"Today, my son becomes a true fighter. Today, he becomes one of us!" Cheers resound throughout the area, with my name being chanted again and again. I am being treated like a star, a celebrity, something I have always yearned to be; but I feel like I am worse off than ever before.

"Good luck with that dragon," Astrid's soft, calming voice echoes in the empty hallway. I look up from my seat to see her come over and sit next to me. I reply dryly, "It's not the dragon I'm worried about…"

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to put an end to this; I have to try," Turning to face her, I place a shaking hand on her shoulder. My voice cracks a little as I make what I am afraid might be my last request, "Astrid, if something… goes wrong, please… don't let them find Toothless…"

Taking my hand in a gesture of comfort, she replies, a concern shining through her eyes, "I will. But please, promise me… it won't."

Sgt. Gobber's voice crackles through the intercom, "It's time, boy. Go on, knock 'im dead."

Taking a deep breath, I stand up on my shaking legs. I tighten my vest, and put on my cap. The knife my father gave me a few days ago is in its sheath, attached on my vest at chest-level. Slinging my fireproof shield over my back, I walk down the hallway into the caged arena. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Astrid looking on, hands clasped over her heart in worry. On the way out, I take a single magazine of live rounds from the ammo crate. No riot control less-lethal ammunition now; this time, it's the real deal.

The roar of the crowd becomes even more deafening as I step out into the heat. The chanting of my callsign disintegrates into a mess of yells and cheers. It's almost dizzying.

A rack of various weapons is lined up against the side of the arena. One of every weapon that we have in our inventory is lined up in order, everything from a Browing .50 calibre machine gun and automatic shotguns to Desert Eagles and AK-47s. I walk over, ignoring the big guns and grabbing a Glock 18 machine pistol off the rack. I wasn't concentrating on what gun I took, anyway. My mind is too preoccupied with formulating a coherent plan.

A collective mutter sounds throughout. I notice the General trading comments with Sgt. Gobber.

"I'm ready."

The buzzer sounds, signalling the start of the match. Suddenly, a hidden trapdoor bursts open in a large explosion, and a massive lump of flame leaps out. The dragon is agitated enough and it has set itself on fire, as it would normally do when confronted. The crowd gasps at the swift entrance of the Nightmare.

In a flash, the dragon is all over the walls, climbing up and down, looking for an escape. Clambering on the inside of the cage, it finds none, and shoots out an orb of burning kerosene gel in frustration. The projectile explodes harmlessly on the inside of the cage.

After the momentary rampage, the dragon extinguishes its fire. It cocks its head to one side, sniffs the air, and finally notices my presence. Slowly, its neck extends to bring its head closer to me. The piercing gaze examines me from head to toe, razor-sharp fangs inching ever closer.

The audience hushes down, and goes silent in anticipation save for a number of over-zealous individuals.

"Go on, Hiccup!"

"Give it to him!"

I gulp, stepping back a little to put some distance between the dragon and I. It's time to put my plan into action.

I drop my gun on the floor. Surprised, shocked, and maybe frustrated whispers fill my ears. I un-sling my shield as well, laying it on the ground. My helmet is next to come off.

"What is he thinking?"

"Oh my god…"

The dragon is as puzzled as the audience, it seems. Its eyes dart to the sides, wondering what I could possibly be doing. I try to talk to it, "It's okay… don't worry…"

I take my knife out of its sheath. The dragon growls, taking it to be a possible sign of aggression. Shutting my eyes, I make a silent apology to my mother, the former owner of the knife.

"I'm not one of them." Tossing the knife aside, I hear the crowd gasp in palpable shock and horror. I am now completely defenceless against what is the second-most feared dragon species in the world.

Over the intercom, I can hear my father's voice, a mix of shock, fear and anger, "Stop the fight…"

"NO! I need you all to see this…" I extend my hand slowly towards the snout of the dragon. I can feel the warm air flowing out of its nostrils with every breath it takes. The dragon's eyes soften a little as I draw nearer, offering my friendship, "They're not what we think they are…"

"We don't have to kill them."

Another gasp, as my statement sounds out throughout the arena.

"I SAID, STOP THE FIGHT!"

A loud gunshot goes off, as the General fires his Desert Eagle into the ring. The bullet hits the dragon in the side of its chest, and it lets out an agonised roar. Combined with the sound of the gunshot, this was enough to undo whatever I had achieved so far. I fall back as it snaps at me, narrowly missing. Going up in flames, the Nightmare unleashes a fountain of fire in my direction. I am able to roll aside to avoid it in time, before I get on my feet.

Why? Why did this have to happen now? Why doesn't he ever trust me?

The questions are beginning to flow endlessly into my head, as the enraged dragon engages in its pursuit. Just as I thought my life couldn't get any worse.

"HICCUP!" I can hear Astrid screaming for me from outside the cage.

I pray she sticks to her promise…

I try to reach for my shield, but it is blasted away by another stream of fire from the Nightmare. I just run; there isn't much else I can do at this point.

In a scene that seems strangely familiar, the pursuing dragon is suddenly knocked back again by explosion after explosion in its side. Shrieking, the Nightmare is thrown against the wall by the impact. Distracted, the dragon takes its eyes off me, and focuses on the source of its new injury.

There, standing like a modern-day Valkyrie descended from the heavens, was Astrid holding in her hands a still-smoking Milkor six-shot Multiple Grenade Launcher.

The dragon roars loudly, and hurtles towards her. Firing off the last of the 40mm high-explosive grenades, Astrid blows the Nightmare off its trajectory, further buying me time to escape. Meanwhile, the General has thrown open the gate to the arena, calling for the both of us to get out of there. Tossing aside the launcher, Astrid makes a break for it with the dragon hot at her heels, and I follow suit.

She makes it out in time, before another blast of fire lights up the gates, forming a wall of fire that traps me within. I turn back without thinking, running right back into the middle of the arena.

Big mistake.

Needle-pointed claws rake the side of my arm, as the dragon slams me into the hard floor. Its fangs are fully bared, ready to tear open my chest. The blinding pain flashes through my body, and my mind goes blank.

Well, I suppose this is the end; the end of my misery and my troubles.

I close my eyes, readying myself for my bloody send-off to the netherworld.

A high-pitched screech echoes across the sky. Like a bolt out of the blue, a bright orb of white-hot plasma explodes on the side of the cage, blowing it open as if it were made of straw. Smoke fills the ring, causing me to cough uncontrollably. A black shadow slams into the side of the Nightmare, and the weight is taken off my body.

As the smoke clears, shocked exclamations pour out of the stands, and everyone scrambles forward to try and make out what is going on.

"Night Fury!"

I try to get up, but I am still coughing away from the smoke. Through my clearing vision, I can distinguish two brawling shapes, one black and one red. I realise what is going on – a no-holds-barred showdown, a duel to the death between the two most feared species of dragons in this part of the world.

Fangs bared, Toothless tears away with his teeth and claws at the Nightmare in a relentless assault. The larger dragon tries to fight back, but despite its size, the Night Fury is faster and more agile. With his sweeping strikes and plasma bolts of ultimate destruction, Toothless effortlessly fends off his opponent. With a sickening crack, Toothless breaks the Nightmare's horns off with his jaws.

Heavily wounded, bleeding profusely and unable to hold its own ground the Nightmare shrieks in agony, before taking off in defeat. My head has cleared up, and I run to Toothless.

"No, Toothless, go! Go! Get out of here!" I shove at his bulk, trying to get him out of this place, but he refuses to budge, still under the impression that I needed his protection. Damn it! He was only going to get himself killed by staying here!

"GO! GO…"

By now, soldiers are pouring out of the stands into the ring. Those with weapons are drawing them, getting ready to take down my dragon. This was all going wrong…

I look up to see the General grabbing a shotgun off the rack from before, and cocking it.

"NO! Dad, he won't hurt you!" He doesn't hear me, and proceeds to fire at Toothless. Perceiving a real threat, he dashes forward to attack. On the way, his tail sweeps aside flanking personnel, and his claws tear gashes into an unlucky few in his way. Pouncing, he knocks my father down, fangs bared.

NO! NO!

He opens his mouth, getting ready to unleash another ball of plasma at point-blank range.

"Toothless, STOP!"

At my command, he hesitates, and looks at me in confusion. At that moment, a number of men donning gas masks slam into his side, knocking him off the General. One of them executes a grapple on Toothless' snout, forcing it shut. Mobile water cannons and tear gas guns are brought out to subdue him further. The rest take ropes and bind him, immobilising my best friend.

"No… no, please!" My eyes begin to water, a combination of the effects of the tear gas, as well as my own desperate pleas. Astrid, herself close to crying, is holding me back, trying to console me, "Jack, no… you can't do anything now…"

Rage and grief consume me. Summoning the last of my strength, I break free of Astrid's grip and tackle one of the men cruelly maltreating Toothless. I can no longer think straight, and I lose all grip with reality. Snatching away his tear gas dispenser, I verbally and physically assault him, before I am subdued myself.

The last thing I hear before blacking out is the General's voice, a mix of betrayal, disappointment and anger.

"Put it with the others…"


	17. Where Insanity is a Virtue

**Chapter 17: Where Insanity is a Virtue**

_Installation 83-RK Detention Barracks, Investigation Room, 0900hrs  
3SG Jack Haddock_

"I should have known… should have seen the signs…"

"Dad…Sir…"

"WE HAD A DEAL!"

"…but that was before I … oh god… this is so messed up…"

"So everything in the ring was a trick? A lie?"

"I screwed up… I should have told you… take it out on me, be angry at me, charge me, but please… don't hurt Toothless!" Handcuffed to the chair, I can only plead in despair.

The General turns on his feet to face me, palpable rage seething throughout him, his voice dripping with disappointment and betrayal. "The dragon? THAT'S what you're worried about? Not the people you ALMOST KILLED?"

"He was… was just protecting me! He's not dangerous…"

"THEY'VE KILLED HUNDREDS OF US!"

"AND WE'VE KILLED THOUSANDS OF THEM! They only fight to defend themselves, that's all! They raid us because they have to! If they don't bring food back, they will be eaten themselves… there's something else… in their cave… it's… it's a dragon like no other…"

"THEIR CAVE? So, you've been to their nest?" His face contorts into a look of insane rage.

"How did you find it?"

"No, I didn't! Toothless… only a dragon can find the nest!"

I see the general's eyes widen, and at that moment, my heart sinks. I can tell he's got an idea, one that I don't like at all. Oh shit.

"No… no, no… Sir, no, it's not what you think it is… you don't know what you're up against! It's like nothing you've ever seen!"

He shoves me aside, completely disregarding my warnings, and proceeds to step out of the interrogation chamber. "I promise you, you cannot win this one! Dad… no!"

My heart is tossing in a sea of complex emotions, wrenching in a mix of fear, anger and desperation. Why doesn't he ever treat me like his son? When will he ever understand me? Why can't he listen to me, even to save his own life? In a last act in exasperation I yell at him, hoping that he finally heeds my warning, "FOR ONCE IN YOUR GOD DAMN LIFE, WOULD YOU PLEASE LISTEN TO ME?"

A heavy blow across the face stuns and silences me. A red warmth flows out of my nose, down the front of my shirt. "You throw your lot in with them… you're not one of us."

"You're not my son." The words, cold and piercing, stab through my heart like a poisoned arrow. The strength drains out of my muscles, and I go limp.

The steel caged doors slam shut, clanging together. As the tears roll down my face, burning tracks on my cheeks, I hear my father yell into his mobile phone, "Prepare strike package Omega. All units to be loaded and ready for combat by 1200hrs!"

* * *

_Installation 83-RK Detention Barracks, Detention Cell 43, 1100hrs_

The four stone walls stare right back at me. The atmosphere is sterile and cold, despite the warmth of the sun seeping through the lone barred window, its light casting shadow lines across my face. I am lifeless, my mind numb to all around me. There is only one thought going through my brain.

_Toothless._

What have I done?

Outside, battle tanks, mobile artillery and armoured troop carriers are rolled out and fuelled up. Ammunition and explosives are loaded onto supply vehicles, ready for transport. Soldiers gather in their ranks, and are briefed by the commanders. Weapons are distributed, instructions are disseminated, and supplies are prepared.

The entire camp is mobilized for what is going to be the biggest battle of their lives. But really, they don't stand a chance against that monstrosity. They are being delivered to the gates of hell; none will come back alive. The General, the fool. If only he listened to me; they would not be engaging in this fruitless effort.

I look out the window, my eyes glazed over, expressionless in defeat. Inwardly, I laugh sarcastically. Oh, how unfair life is. The shit's really hit the fan this time. There's nothing left for me to live for on this world.

My best friend has been captured, probably locked up deep within this block in a high-security enclosure. They're probably torturing him… raiding the equipment I built for him, scanning it for flight patterns and paths… triangulating the location for the nest…

A lone tear rolls down the side of my face. My heart sinks, heavy with guilt. Toothless doesn't deserve this. He's innocent, all of it is my fault. I'm to blame for everything – his injury, his current situation, even the impending deaths of all those brave men and women, who at this moment are moving out of the installation, geared and prepped for the final showdown that will cost them dearly. If only I had listened to Sgt. Gobber and my father that day… all this would not have happened.

Destined to live the rest of my life wallowing in sorrow and hate, I slump against the cold stone, dejected.

Suddenly, the steel caged door rattles open, and Astrid stumbles in, reeling from the force that threw her into the cell. It seems I've also implicated her as a result of my foolish actions.

"You too, huh?"

She nods sheepishly at my inquiry. "I've been arrested pending further investigations, I'm suspected of abetting your actions of contravening a standing order from your superiors, and of conduct prejudicial to good order."

We sit in uncomfortable silence for the next few minutes, before Astrid speaks once more.

"It's a mess." I raise my head to look at her sitting across the cell, opposite from where I am.

"You must feel horrible; you've lost everything, your father, your platoon, your best friend…" Her voice is wavering; she probably feels the same way as I do.

"Thank you… for summing that up." I reply dryly, not knowing what else to say as the words just tumble out of my mouth.

"Why couldn't I have killed that dragon when I found him in the ruins? It would've been better, for everyone…" A little late for regrets now, isn't it, Hiccup? Why ask yourself this question now when you should have done so much earlier? Save yourself all that trouble…

"True… the rest of us would have done it." Astrid contemplates my rhetoric, "So why didn't you?"

I pause, as the lone question hangs in the air, echoing around my mind as it did around the empty cell. I am stunned; I actually hadn't thought of this before. All this weeks, and I don't know why I didn't kill Toothless in the first place.

"Why didn't you?" She repeats the question once more, hammering it into my head.

My mouth is dry, as I try to form a coherent string of words, "I… I don't know… I couldn't."

"That's not an answer!"

"Why is this suddenly so important to you?"

"Because I want to remember what you say, right now." Boy, she sure is persistent. I turn to her and I see in her eyes the same strong look of determination that I saw in the ring all those times during training. I just let loose a string of excuses, "Fine, I was a coward, I was weak! I wouldn't kill a dragon!"

She retorts firmly, "You said 'would've' that time…"

"Well, whatever! I just woudn't! Seventy-two hundred combat personnel in this base, and I'm the first one who wouldn't kill a dragon!"

I look away, frustrated that life wasn't done screwing with me yet. Suddenly, I feel a warm, comforting hand on my shoulder. A soft feeling presses up against my back, and a soothing voice jolts my conscience.

"First to ride one, though."

I break down, opening my heart, reaching in to feel for those emotions that have eluded me this far. I recall the events of that day, and I come to a realization.

"I… I wouldn't kill him… because… he looks as frightened as I was. I looked at him… and I saw myself…"

Astrid is taken aback, a little surprised, but she smiles, satisfied at the answer. She continues to lean on me, and I make no move to resist.

_

* * *

_

Installation 83-RK Detention Barracks, 1300hrs  
3SG Astrid Hofferson

I can hear the guards talking outside.

"Lunch? What've you brought them, Private?"

"Uh… ah… Steak and chips…" I perk up at the familiar voice. Fishlegs must have been put on cookhouse duty today, otherwise why would he be bringing out lunch rations for the detention personnel?

"Yeah, it's the standard fare, but between you and me, sir, these traitors don't deserve such treatment," Ouch, that hurt… Wait, Ruffnut too? Strange, usually only one soldier per platoon is put on cookhouse duty per week; they must be really short on hands today.

The laughter of the guards is suddenly silenced as I hear the sound of a gun being cocked. "Yeah, you know what that is… Hands over your head… Get down! DOWN!"

Ruffnut's commanding tone alerts me, and I rush out to peer out between the steel bars. To my astonishment, I see Fishlegs with a Beretta M93 machine pistol and Ruffnut brandishing an Uzi submachine gun each, pinning the security guards to the floor, guns pointed firmly at their backs. In one swift motion, Ruffnut knocks both guards unconscious. Once sure that both were disabled, she frisks the guards, finding a set of keys.

By now, I am fighting back tears of joy, as Ruffnut comes over and unlocks the door to our cell, with Fishlegs watching her back. With a wink, she hands me and Jack a pistol each, "Alright Sarge, we're here to get both of you out! Sergeant Hiccup, Tuffnut and Snotlout are acquiring the location of your dragon, if you still want to let it free."

"Why?" Jack is confused, and I can see why – Why the sudden decision to help him? Isn't he a so-called traitor?

Fishlegs replies sheepishly, "Well, we're still a platoon, if you haven't realised, it's our job to back you guys up; and seeing as how that dragon tried so hard to protect you, we thought maybe dragons couldn't be all that bad…"

"Yeah, yeah, less talk, more action! Quickly, before they find out!" Ruffnut is rushing us, a little more than hyped up by the adrenaline rush.

Jack still looks a little hesitant, understandably so. Sighing, I take his hand in mine. "I bet he's really frightened now. What are you going to do about it?"

"Well, probably something stupid…" His reply comes across as a little wary, but still determined.

Smiling, I egg him on, "Good, but you've already done that."

His face brightens up as a plan forms in his mind, the thoughts flying across his eyes.

"Then, something crazy."

I smirk, and motion for us to move out. That's more like it.


	18. Lock and Load

**Chapter 18: Lock & Load**

_Installation 83-RK, Detention Barracks Lower Chambers, 1230hrs  
3SG Astrid Hofferson_

"Cell breach in block A, repeat, cell breach in block A, all guards to be on high alert. Those not on duty are to initiate search pattern Alpha. Escaped detainees are presumed to be armed. Do not use deadly force."

The entire detention block is on high alert, ever since we pulled that stunt half an hour ago. With almost every available personnel looking for us, we had to be careful. Ruffnut takes point, leading the four of us with her silenced Uzi submachine gun held at the ready. I am next, followed by Hiccup, both of us armed with standard USP pistols. Fishlegs is covering our rear with a Heckler & Koch MP7 he picked up from one of the guards they took out earlier.

"Check those corners," I instruct Ruffnut to ensure that the hallway ahead of us is clear.

"Hallway clear. Advance." We sprint ahead, cautiously but rapidly moving out. Suddenly, Ruffnut halts us with a raised left palm. Moving her hand over to her headset, she adjusts it.

"Ruffnut here, I hear you loud and clear. What's up, bro… you've located the dragon? Great, hold your position, we'll join you ASAP."

Turning to face me, she updates us on the situation, "Snotlout and Tuffnut have found your dragon; it's being held in the operations room of this block. Basement level."

I look to Jack, awaiting his decision. I can see he is contemplating the next step. The room is bound to be guarded, but due to the lack of personnel at this point in time, infiltrating may possibly be rather simple. It is what to do next that poses the big question here.

After a moment being spent deep in thought, he gives his first orders as a sergeant, "We split up here; Astrid, Ruffnut, can the two of you get to the armoury? Prepare whatever small arms you deem necessary, along with spare ammunition if you think it is needed; Fishlegs, you're with me. The two of us will link up with Snotlout and Tuffnut to save Toothless. We meet at the DC Training Complex at 1430hrs."

My first reaction is to object; I want to save Toothless as well, to make sure that he's alright, and also to make sure Jack is alright. But I look at it at a broader perspective; I see what he means. If we're going to have any chance of taking on that monstrosity back at the nest, we're going to need more firepower.

I nod and motion for Ruffnut to follow me. I'm going to trust you on this one, Jack.

Good luck.

_

* * *

_

Detention Barracks Basement level, 1245hrs  
3SG Jack Haddock

The worry in my heart increases with every step. I'm practically sprinting across corridors and passages, with Fishlegs following close behind. There is only one thought on my mind right now. I had to find Toothless quickly. Who knows what they are doing to him.

Turning the corner, we finally bump into Snotlout, equipped with a Knight's SR-15 and under-barrel Masterkey shotgun, and Tuffnut, carrying a G36C rifle. I could tell they were jittery and ready to strike.

"What took you so long, Sarge?"

I shrug it off, still not used to my title, and return to the objective at hand, "All right, what's the situation now? What's between me and my dragon?"

"We did a preliminary thermal scan and detected at least five heat signatures; the largest one, we assume, is the Night Fury," Tuffnut gives me a quick lowdown, and instantly, the plan forms in my mind. Four enemies – that makes one for each of us. The ops room is full of sensitive and expensive communications equipment; the personnel in there would be reluctant to fire their weapons freely – we can take advantage of that.

"On my go, Snotlout, you breach the door with your shotgun. Nut, Legs – the two of you go in first, fire warning shots; Do not injure anybody – if you have to, non-lethal shots only! Let's not get into deeper shit than we already are."

"Don't worry, Sarge, we're using rubber bullets."

"… Alright, then weapons free. But try not to aim at vital body parts. Disarm the nearest personnel to you, and hold up the next one that comes into sight. That way, each of you can disable two at once. Snotlout, you clear the room of anyone else, in case there are more than four. I will handle the dragon."

"Why don't you go in first?" Snotlout questions my courage and leadership skills; I show him my pistol. Does he seriously expect me to go in there with this?

"Ah."

"Alright guys, get in position. Stack up!" We line up against the walls around the door, and Snotlout loads the shotgun attachment, pumping the foregrip to chamber the first round.

"Do it!" On my command, gunshots sounds across the hallway and the breaching rounds blow apart the hinges on the locked door. Shouts of surprise emit from inside the room, before Snotlout kicks down the door. Almost immediately, Fishlegs and Tuffnut rush in, letting loose a short burst of fire. Yells of pain are heard, as I enter the room, dashing in with my pistol raised.

I am greeted by five very shocked, very scared communications personnel. Two are on the ground, pinned down by Fishlegs and Tuffnut, another two are on their knees, hands raised above their heads at the sight of fully automatic weapons trained at them. The last one is doubled over, clutching her arm in obvious pain.

"Damn it Snotlout! I told you, warning shots only!" They don't look much older than we are… damn it, they must really be low on manpower! Did the General really mobilise all available personnel in the base? I grit my teeth; more brave men and women sent to their doom. I instruct my men to release their captives as they don't seem to be of any harm; no weapons, probably untrained in combat. Looking around, I search the large room for Toothless.

I find him lying, unmoving , strapped to onto a long platform. Ropes bind his snout shut, and his legs are immobilised with chains. Beside the platform is a computer, wired up to the harness on Toothless. My visor is also there… they must have raided my bunk.

Oh no… am I too late?

I run over and try to wake him up, shaking the lifeless body. I begin to panic. "Toothless! Buddy, wake up! God damn it! What have you done to him?"

The one injured in the arm, and the most senior, an Asian female Specialist Cadet no older than twenty replies, "I… I don't know! They just brought it in… it was unconscious already! Probably tasers and tear gas… We were ordered to do scans for flight paths on the harness, that's all!"

This was turning out worse than I thought…

Grabbing a bayonet from Snotlout, I cut open the straps, and disconnect the cables linking my harness to the computer. For the second time in my life, I was releasing the same dragon from captivity. Again, a few well-placed shots from my pistol breaks open the chains. Silently, I pray that it would turn out in a similar fashion.

A low growl sounds out. Thank god! He was still alive!

Those emerald eyes shoot open, and I am knocked over. The weight and the warm breath on my face feels all too familiar, but this time it seemed different… Snotlout raises his weapon, but I motion for him to relax… I smile as a warm, wet tongue runs over my face, while another warm wave of relief explodes from within my heart.

"Buddy! I was so worried for you… Thank goodness you're alive…" I get up from under Toothless, and embrace the resurrected dragon tightly. He returns my show of emotion with another growl, before becoming cautious, suspicious of the presence of the others around me. "Relax, bud… they're friends…"

He looks at me curiously, and I repeat myself. Satisfied that they weren't going to be of any threat, he relaxes.

I motion to the injured girl, glancing at her name tag, "I'm sorry you guys got involved in this. Snotlout, take, uh… Cadet Yoko to the infirmary and treat her. Apologise, because you shot her."

He rolls his eyes.

"Do it! Tuffnut, Fishlegs, meet me at the DC complex by 1430hrs. You too, Snotlout. I'm going to link up with Ruffnut and Astrid." I put on my visor and get on Toothless. Re-syncing the pieces of equipment, I reboot the systems and ensure that all checked out fine. No issues, save for a couple of bugs here and there, no big problem. "Let's go, Toothless."

Letting out a roar, my noble black steed looks at the ceiling, before blowing a hole in it with a bolt of plasma. The rest of them flinch as the rays of sunlight shine into the normally dark room. In a flash, Toothless launches into the air, the familiar beating of the wings rejuvenating my soul and my confidence.

_

* * *

_

Armoury, 1315hrs  
3SG Astrid Hofferson

Breaking into the armoury was easier than I thought. Only two guards were outside, both easily disabled and taken care of. They're probably still knocked out, locked in that gun closet, stripped to their underwear (That was Ruff's idea, I swear!). I've changed into my combat gear, putting on a bulletproof form-fitting chestplate over my regular black tank top, along with black leather half-finger weighted-knuckle gloves and Kevlar forearm gauntlets. My favourite pair of neon-green ballistic goggles rests on my head, held snugly by an elastic band. Tactical knee pads are worn over my pants, giving me additional protection together with my steel-toed boots. Empty grenade and magazine pouches are strapped over my thighs, ready for their load of brass and explosives.

For the past half hour, we were filling a number of clips with all the 5.56mm bullets we could find, about 5 or 6 100-round Beta C-Mag drum magazines and about ten 30-round box magazines. A tough and tedious job, even with the help of an automatic loading machine. I'm glad it's finally over.

A large portion of the weapons here are already being utilised at the forefront of the ongoing operation, leaving behind only the unused, old surplus guns… as well as the unused prototype weapons bought off the black market.

Searching through the gun racks at the rear, we come across a number of weapons that have supposedly never gone past the prototype stage. Ruffnut, being the gun nut that she is, grabs a Pancor Jackhammer automatic shotgun (1), as well as a Korean-developed Daewoo K11 double-magazine assault rifle (2), hooting away in excitement. I myself am awed by the fine selection of rare firearms here; I'll bet even the experienced veteran Sgt. Gobber doesn't know of this collection.

Heart beating in excitement, I search further in, imagining what other wonders I will find in here. Screw the Cardinal Sin of Greed.

_Thirty minutes later_

We exit the armoury, a multitude of guns that should never see the light of day hanging over our shoulders and backs. Heavy as they are, we are like rabid fangirls, basking in the euphoria of a successful treasure hunt. Between the two of us, it feels like we have enough firepower to take on an entire battalion.

Ruffnut has her fully-loaded Pancor Jackhammer in her hands, a bandolier of 12-gauge shotgun shells slung across her torso. The Daewoo K11 on her back is loaded with a 30-round box magazine, and a full clip of six 20mm air-burst smart grenades. Two additional magazines of 20mm 'pellets of boom', as she called them, are contained in the side pockets of her pants. Her vest is packed with spare 5.56mm magazines. Twin AK-47s rest on the sides of her waist, hooked to her belt. A Magpul 5.56mm PDR (3), looking like something out of _Ghost in the Shell_, is holstered on the inside of her right thigh. Put simply, she is a walking one-girl platoon.

Not that I can criticise her; I am equally overwhelmed with weaponry. Front-slung on my chest is a Mark 5 variant of the Ultimax 100 light machine gun (4); reliable, handy, powerful, and loaded with a 100-round dual-drum magazine. A SAR-21A experimental bullpup assault rifle (5) was on my back, also loaded with 100 rounds of full metal jacket. A sharpshooter variant of the cancelled XM8 battle rifle (6), with the add-on XM320 40mm grenade launcher, hangs off my left shoulder on a tactical sling. In addition, I couldn't resist packing along a Barrett XM500 .50-calibre sniper rifle (7), currently hanging horizontally across the back of my waist. Extra grenades are held in a bandolier worn around my waist. As always, my P90s are holstered on my thighs, fully loaded, with attached optic sights on their tactical rails. My Smith & Wesson revolvers are tucked snugly in my inner thigh holsters.

I check my watch. Forty-five minutes to get to the DC complex.

"Wait… how are we going to get there?" Ruffnut's question causes me to pause in my tracks.

Shit. I hadn't thought of that.

The sensible half of me told me to drop the guns, and just take what was necessary to avoid weighing myself down… but the other half, the asshole greedy one, told me to hold on to them. Faced with this dilemma, I grit my teeth and make a quick, proper decision.

"Ruffnut, can you drive?"

She looks at a nearby standby Light Strike Vehicle, then turns to face me. "All due respect, Sarge; ARE YOU CRAZY?"

"I asked you a question, soldier!"

"Uh… No, Sarge."

"Whatever. Load up. I'll drive." I load my guns into the back seat of the vehicle, and instruct Ruffnut to do the same. Still suspicious of my sanity, she slowly gets onto the front passenger seat.

Before I can get on, I hear my name being called from the heavens.

"Astrid! Wait up!" I look up to the source of the familiar voice, to see Jack riding his dragon towards us. My heart leaps to see Toothless safe, and I run over to meet Jack.

"Astrid, Ruffnut, can you help me out here…" Curiously, I follow him over to the entrance of the armoury, while Ruffnut cautiously gets up and passes by the Night Fury.

Before long, Jack wheels out a trolley, loaded with a variety of flares and RPGs, along with a detached Minigun and an FN MAG General Purpose Machine Gun (8). Assisting him, I carry the Minigun and GPMG over to Toothless, while Ruffnut carefully loads the flares and grenades into the integrated dispensers on Jack's harness, still wary of the dragon. For once the dragon doesn't seem apprehensive to being in close proximity with human weaponry.

"Um… Jack, what are you planning?" Curiosity gets the better of me.

With a click, he locks the machine guns into place onto hidden hard points on the harness, along both sides of his rider's seat; the belts of ammunition lead down to aluminium containers fixed on the underside of Toothless' abdomen. Giving me a smile, he replies, "Something crazy."

The dragon growls in a sign of agreement, his mouth drawn back in a smirk, fangs bared. I am reminded again why I am so drawn to these two oddballs.

Lock and load.

* * *

_**A/N – I apologis**__**e for the long delay in update. This chapter was a real challenge to write, since I was experiencing the worst writer's block in my life. Future chapters will probably be faster; it's going to get easier from here on for me. Thanks for supporting me so far; I never expected 100 reviews when I started out this story!**_

_**Explanatory notes (Skip if you don't feel like reading; it's really, really long, plus it's not really necessary to the appreciation of the story in my opinion.)**_

_**(1) – Pancor Jackhammer:**_ _The Pancor Corporation __Jackhammer__is a __12-gauge, __gas-operated automatic shotgun. It is one of very few fully automatic shotguns, and although patented in 1987, it never entered full-scale production. Only a few working prototypes of the Jackhammer were ever built; some sources state that only two fully automatic prototypes exist. In the late 1990s, the current owner of the design, Mark III, attempted to sell the patents, prototypes, and production rights for $350,000. Nonetheless, its distinctive appearance and futuristic, stylish design have made it popular in action television programs, films, and video games._

_**(2) – Daewoo K11:**_ _The __Daewoo K11__is an assault rifle developed with the capability of both having 20mm air-burst shells and 5.56mm rounds. The air-burst shells can be controlled by a state-of-the-art control system to explode a few meters from the target giving a grenade-like effect capable of killing targets in an area of 6m and seriously wounding those within 8m area.__ Equipped with a laser range-finder as well as a ballistics computer, it allows the operator to engage in precision attacks against the target. A computer scope is integrated to the gun, which in turn is linked to a digital display that can be used both during the day as well as night with thermal imaging. Put simply; two triggers, two barrels, two magazines, one gun. In my opinion, one of the most awesome weapons ever. It is planned for distribution within the South Korean Army starting 2010._

_**(3) – Magpul PDR: **__The __Magpul PDR __(Personal Defense Rifle) is a compact __bullpup-style 5.56x45mm carbine being developed by __Magpul Industries. Although still in development, it has gathered some attention. The system consists of a gas-operated bullpup intended to replace some __submachine guns, __M9 pistols __and __M4 carbines __while still offering the rapid fire and range of a M4 carbine in an ultra compact firearm. Ruffnut here is using the PDR-C (Compact) variant, featuring an FNP90-style grip and ergonomics offering a more compact weapon._

_**(4) – Ultimax 100: **__The __Ultimax 100 __is a __Singaporean __5.56mm __light machine gun, developed by the __Chartered Industries of Singapore (currently incorporated into the Singapore Technologies Engineering Ltd or __ST Engineering __group). It is used as the standard-issue Squad Automatic Weapon in the Singapore Army. The Mark 5 variant used here is currently under development; it features a folding stock and Picatinny rails in addition to what was in previous models. Why would Astrid choose this gun over other LMGs or SAWs? Probably because it's lighter, less prone to malfunctions or stoppages, has a constant recoil system, and only requires one hand to reload, due to it being clip-fed rather than belt-fed as with most other SAWs. Most users will claim that this is the best SAW in the world, due to its accuracy and reliability._

_**(5) – SAR 21A: **__A currently experimental, improved version of the Singapore-made SAR 21 Astrid used in Ch. 12. __The prototype was unveiled at the Singapore Air Show 2010; this updated variant boasts a sturdier thumb selector for ambidextrous control, a 3.2KG unloaded weight, a full built-in__Picatinny rail__along its length and a higher rate of fire at 900 RPM. An additional feature is a removable handguard that can be replaced with additional accessories. Production will begin in 2011. Taking some artistic liberty here; Astrid would have added a foregrip, a laser aiming/designation device, and a MARS red dot sight used already on the current SAR21 models; maybe an underslung clip-fed M26 Modular Accessory Shotgun System? The 100-round drum magazine is usually used on the SAR21 LMG variant, but it is possible for it to be used here as well._

_**(6) – XM8 Assault Rifle: **__A__ developmental U.S. military designation and project name for a lightweight __assault rifle __system that was under development by the __United States Army __from the late 1990s to early 2000s. The Army worked with the __German __small arms __manufacturer __Heckler & Koch __(H&K) to develop the system to its requirements. Although there were high hopes that the XM8 would become the Army's new standard infantry rifle, the project was put on hold in April 2005, and was__formally cancelled__on October 31, 2005. While the XM8 does come in a LMG variant, Astrid would probably have gone with this 'carbine with grenade launcher' variant, having already chosen to wield two other LMGs, though here the 'sharpshooter' designation would mean that she has used the 20" barrel over the regular 12.5" barrel, as well as having equipped it with specialised optics; probably an ACOG zoom sight. _

_**(7) – Barrett XM500 .50 Calibre Sniper Rifle**__**:**_ _The Barrett XM500 is a gas-operated, semi-automatic sniper/anti-material rifle currently in development. It is fed by a 10-round detachable box magazine situated behind the trigger in the bullpup configuration. It is based on the Barret M82 and M107 .50-caliber sniper rifles. It is intended to be a lighter, more compact alternative to the M82. Since the XM500 has a stationary barrel (instead of the recoiling-barrel design of the M82), it will likely have somewhat better accuracy. As with its predecessor, it comes with a removable, adjustable bipod mounted under the barrel, and a top-mounted picatinny rail for attachment of scopes and/or other accessories._

_**(8) – FN MAG GPMG:**_ _The __FN MAG __is a __Belgian __7.62mm __general purpose machine gun, designed in the early 1950s at __Fabrique Nationale (FN) __by Ernest Vervier. It has been used by more than 80 countries, and it has been made under licence in countries such as __Argentina, __Egypt, __India, __Singapore, the __United Kingdom __and the __United States. __The weapon's name is an abbreviation for _Mitrailleuse d'Appui Général_, meaning __general purpose machine gun __(GPMG). The version used here would be the MAG Model 60-40, a coaxial version for mounting on armoured vehicles. The hardpoint on Toothless' harness would thus have been modified by Jack to enable the GPMG to be mounted as if it were being used on a regular armoured vehicle._


	19. Ace Combat: Joint Assault

**Chapter 19: Ace Combat - Joint Assault**

_500km Northeast of Installation 83-RK, 1400hrs_

"Stoick, I was overhearing some of the men just now, and some of them… not me… are wondering what it is we are up to here. Not me, of course, I know you always have some plan in mind, but some… not me… are wondering if there is a plan at all, and what it might be?" Sgt. Gobber stands at the General's side, a little jittery, but trying to hide his nervousness.

"… We find the nest and take it."

"Ah. Standard Sun Tzu… strike first, send them running..."

A scout unit runs over to the General and passes him a PDA. "Sir, we've received the approximate coordinates of the target area."

Linking the PDA to a larger LCD screen, the General narrows his eyes as he examines the digital display laid out in front of him. A large cross-shaped icon indicated the triangulated location of the dragons' nest. Looking up, the General takes in the sight in front of him. According to data patterns, the fog and EM interference is currently at a day-time low. Having strengthened the sensors and communications equipment that they brought along, comm-lines should be easily maintained as compared to before.

The optimum time to strike was now. They had a limited window of opportunity, they cannot waste it.

"Stay within sight of each other, divert as much power to your comms equipment as possible. Load your weapons and ready the cannons. We move out now."

The rattle and rumble of diesel motors grows louder, as the column of mobile armour and artillery moves into the grey fog. The General is at the head in a mobile command vehicle, flanked by main battle tanks on both sides.

"Head for the coordinates as shown on the screen. The rest of the units, follow my lead."

_

* * *

_

Dragon Combat Training Complex, Holding Area, 1430hrs  
3SG Jack Haddock

I look up at the large steel doors. Next to me is Toothless, curiously wondering what I could be up to. He has gotten used to the weight of the machine guns on his back, as well as the thousand 7.62mm rounds loaded in a large container below his midsection.

"If you're planning on getting eaten, I'd definitely go with the Gronckle."

I turn around to see the rest of my platoon gathered there, armed and ready for action. Ruffnut and Astrid have handed out the ammunition and spare guns. Awaiting my next move, I can almost smell the excitement and nervousness in the air. I had gathered them here for a reason, and I am just about to show them that reason.

"You are wise to seek the assistance of the world's most deadly weapon… me." I roll my eyes at Tuffnut's egoistic comments, as I turn my attention to getting the door open. Pushing her brother away, Ruffnut inches closer to me, and I hear her whisper over my shoulder, "You're crazy… I like that…"

A loud, forced cough from Astrid breaks the awkward moment, thankfully. Shoving Ruffnut away, she looks up at the door, wondering what in hell I was doing, "So, what is the plan?"

I smile, and press a few buttons on the control panel. I flick the switch and motion for the platoon to stand back.

"Weapons on the floor. We don't want to scare him."

I grin inwardly at the shocked expressions I am getting. I take a deep breath, and step into the Nightmare's enclosure.

Inside, I hoped this will work out as planned. If it doesn't , I just screwed us over big-time.

* * *

_-LOCATION UNTRACEABLE-, 1435hrs_

The fog becomes thicker as the battalions drive further into the uncharted territory. The tension is palpable. An odd noise gradually builds up, sounding like very loud crickets, combined with a howling wind. Static crackles across the screens of digital displays, but the interference is insufficient to render them unusable.

"Coordinates reached. Standing by for further orders." Slowly, the command vehicle grinds to a halt.

The General sends out the command to set up base. "Scout vehicles, perform recon operations. Time limit is 25 mike. I want a report by 1500hrs."

"Armour and artillery, ready weapons and be at engagement status. All other troops, stay low and be alert."

Soon, the LSVs return with their findings. "Sir, we've found a large fissure in the ground approximately one kilometre ahead. Significant heat signatures numbering hundreds are detectable by our equipment, but we suspect more."

The General's face breaks into a confident smirk. Finally, the thing we have been after for years. Finally, it is within our grasp. Finally, we can end it once and for all.

"We're here. Initiate combat formation Zion. "

"Let's make this groundbreaking!"

_

* * *

_

Dragon Combat Training Complex, Holding Area, 1430hrs  
3SG Astrid Hofferson

I am awed, impressed and mesmerised by the scene in front of me. Beside me, the twins and Fishlegs are equally excited. Toothless is curled up in a corner, looking on in amusement, silently offering moral support to his rider.

Slowly, Jack leads the large, red reptile out of its enclosure, his hand placed gently on the dragon's snout. Like watching a snake charmer do his magic, it was somehow mystical how the guy could bring these great beasts under his control in such a simple manner. I hear him whisper comforting words to the Nightmare, assuring it that we had no hostile intentions.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Snotlout tensing up, his feet shuffling on the spot. Nervousness overcomes him, as he reaches for his pistol on the floor. I lightly hit him on the shoulder.

"No, don't," He gives me a look of incredulity, and I return with my own glare, making it clear that it wasn't a request. Whimpering, he gets back up to face Jack, the dragon beside him.

Slowly, Jack advances towards Snotlout, bringing the dragon with him. Taking Snotlout's hand, he tries to get Snotlout acquainted, 'connected', with the dragon. The cowardly boy flinches, and jerks his arm away in fear. "Wait! What are you…?"

"Shh… It's okay… Relax…" Jack slowly brings the larger boy's hand to replace his on the Nightmare's nose. Initially, Snotlout draws back at the feeling of the dragon's warm breath, but slowly, the dragon lets out a low growl of acceptance, its eyes softening. Snotlout heaves a sigh of relief, as the coolness of the situation gets the better of him. Jack strides away, to his surprise and sudden loss of confidence, "Wait… Where're you going?"

"You're going to need something to hold on," Jack reaches for a few ropes stowed away in a crate in the corner of the area.

More growls are heard from the other side, drawing our attention over to the source. To our (pleasant?) surprise, we faced again the dragons we had fought during training, now curiously pattering over to where we stood.

The twins rushed over to take the Zippleback, while Fishlegs slowly approached the Gronckle. I myself found favour with the spiky, blue Nadder. Slowly, I walk towards it, a feeling of nervous excitement taking over my body. Fingers trembling in anticipation, I raise my hand, reaching for the blue-green scales. Surprising me, it lowers its head, allowing me to gently pet its snout.

"Feeling's not too bad, isn't it?" Jack appears next to me, lending me a hand as I tie a makeshift reign onto the comparatively thinner frame of the Nadder. Smiling in satisfaction, I mutter a quiet "Thank you" at him, and I watch as he blushes shyly. Toothless rolls his eyes, and gags.

Ah, he's just too cute.

Grabbing the few guns that I kept for myself from before, I sling them over my shoulders and leap onto my own steed. I strap on my own neon-green goggles and adjust my headband. Confidence and exhilaration at actually riding my own dragon washes over me. One by one, we take to the skies, with Jack making sure we were handling our dragons correctly.

Finally, Jack puts on his visor, and takes off himself. Toothless seems glad to be able to fully stretch his wings once more.

"Testing, 1, 2, 3… This is flight leader, callsign Hiccup, do you read me?" He tests the intercom, his tone half-joking as he uses his callsign.

"Astrid here, I hear you loud and clear." One by one, we reply to indicate our acknowledgement.

"Alright everyone, let's rock and roll!"

Exclaiming in the heat of the adrenaline rush, we speed off into the distance, dragons roaring, heading to save the world and our way of life.


	20. And Let Slip The Dogs Of War

**Chapter 20: And Let Slip The Dogs Of War**

_-LOCATION UNTRACEABLE- 1510hrs_

"When we break the ground open, all hell is going to break loose." The General addresses the troops via intercom. Broadcasting a short-wave radio frequency from the command vehicle, he gives the speech and briefing.

Just ahead of the formation lay the black, dark crack, an opening into the underground cavern. It is thin, and gave little room for entry. The plan is to blow it open, and move in with an all-out assault. "No matter how this ends, this ends _today_."

"Men, they outnumber us three to one; good odds, I must say. This day, we rescue ourselves, our families, our fathers, sons, mothers, daughters, brothers and sisters from the merciless horrors that the beasts have brought us. Today we usher in a new future, not for ourselves, but for the future generations. No longer will the monsters plague us. For those who do not survive this battle, know this; your sacrifice will be remembered."

"Fight bravely, and fight well. For tonight, we will go home to a new era of victory!" Resounding cheers sound from the assembled army, men and women ready to end the war they have been fighting for so long.

"Artillery formation, initiate bombardment!" With that order, lines of AS-90 self-propelled artillery guns based almost 50 kilometres away unleash a rain of heavy 155mm high-explosive projectiles. The signature whistle of the shells, followed by the thundering explosions as they hit the ground signals the start of the battle.

Tanks and anti-aircraft guns ready their cannons; the soldiers load their rifles and grenade launchers. Fingers on the trigger, they are battle-ready, adrenaline pumping through their blood.

The fifteen seconds of artillery strikes seems like forever. The last shell finally hits the ground, going up in one final explosion of fragmentation and high heat. As it does so, the ground surrounding the fissure begins to give way. Rumbles shake the earth, as rocks crack and tumble all over the area. The darkness spreads wider, as if consuming the desert with a black hole.

After a while, the dust finally settles, revealing the cavern. There is a high-pitched howl as wind rushes into the black space. No sunlight shines in, making the fissure seem even darker that it already is.

All hold their breath in suspense. The General narrows his eyes, giving his next instructions. "Flare grenadiers, deploy."

A scout unit advances forward, firing off a number of 40mm Star Cluster signal grenades. The bright flares fly into the cave, illuminating it from the inside. There is a collective gasp as the bright lights reveal a horrific sight.

Hundreds, maybe even thousands of dragons swarmed all over the walls and sides of the cavern. There are a few shrieks and growls as the reptiles flinch, blinded and irritated by the intense illumination. Slowly, the flares fade into the blackness, and the cave falls dark yet once more.

The soldiers stand unfazed, despite knowing what odds they are up against now. Cocking the guns, they await the assault order.

"Weapons free."

Ear-shattering explosions rock the cave as battle tanks, cannons and Gatling turrets unload their first wave of fire. Letting loose a roaring battle cry, the troops move in, rifles, machine guns, rocket launchers, RPGs and high-calibre sniper rifles blasting away. Tracer rounds draw bright lines in the darkness, as explosions kick up dust and debris. The rattle of weapons echoes around the cave, increasing in volume and becoming deafening as more and more soldiers engage the dragons in combat.

Shrieks and roars of rage and pain add to the thundering noise, and the dragons take flight. Though some of them counter with fireballs and flamethrowers of their own nature, they realise that they cannot win against human machinery and high explosive; at least not here. Escaping through the entrance, the numerous swarms beat their wings and soar out of the cave.

The General was prepared. He wasn't going to let them go so easily.

"Choppers, engage."

AH-64D Apache Longbow attack helicopters rise up through the clouds of dust, facing the escaping horde of flying reptiles. The pilots activate their weapon systems.

"All weapons, armed and ready."

Finger on the trigger, he aims the helicopter's M230 chain gun at the advancing dragons. Instructing the co-pilot to ready the Hellfire and Hydra rockets, he pulls the trigger, unleashing 625 30mm rounds per minute, gunning down dragon after dragon. The missiles and rockets follow closely behind, as the choppers empty their payloads.

Not even 12-inch thick reinforced tank armour can stand up to this barrage, much less dragon scales. One by one, dragons drop from the sky, riddled with bullet holes the size of fists and burns from the multiple explosions that hit them. The dragons realise the dangers surrounding them, and are forced to fly upwards, only to meet the screams of fighter jets as F-15E Strike Eagles and F-22 Raptors unload further fiery destruction in the form of missiles and bombs.

However, the dragons did outnumber the humans, several to one, and giving up on the fight, many still manage to escape, albeit with minor injuries on a number of them. Flying off into the surrounding fog, their shrieks subside into the distance.

The skirmish lasts for no longer than 5 minutes.

"Is that it?" Sgt. Gobber is as surprised as anyone else is; they all expected the dragons to put up at least a bit of a fight, and not run away.

As the silence sets in, there is a loud cheer. "We've done it!"

As further cheers echo about, the General senses something amiss.

A low growl is heard, through the noise of the cheers.

"Oh shit… THIS ISN'T OVER! Stand your ground, stay in formation!" He yells his orders over the intercom. Stunned, the troops return to their original battle-ready positions.

A deafening roar sounds out, and a foul wind blows out of the cave. The ground shakes, causing more debris to fall within the cave.

"Extremely large heat signature detected! Scanners are unable to determine the exact size!" The scanners in the command vehicle are going haywire.

Realising the gravity of the situation, and that maybe he should have listened to his son, the General gives what he feels may be his final orders. "GET CLEAR! FALL BACK!"

Crashing through the rocks, a monstrous creature far larger, and far more hideous than any dragon he had ever encountered before bursts through the entrance of the cave. It was reddish-green, covered in rock-like scales that seemed to fuse together to form an impenetrable, yet decaying suit of armour. Multiple protrusions and horns adorned its spine, leading up to two rows of five large purplish-grey eyes on its great skull. Its jaws are large enough to engulf multiple tanks, and its teeth strong enough to crush reinforced steel. Which is exactly what it does.

Stomping through the troops, the behemoth crushes entire platoons under its claws, its tail swatting down attack helicopters as if they are flies, and sweeping aside tanks like mere toys. Anguished yells and screams of horror from the troops do nothing to convey the fear everyone is experiencing. Artillery strikes, missiles, rockets and shells bombard its thick hide, but do nothing to stop its lumbering advance.

"Oh God, help us…" The General, shocked by this horrific revelation, loses all the confidence he had a mere hour ago.

The monster takes a deep breath, green gas collecting in its jaws. A jet of flame, half a mile long, accompanied by dirty smoke, spewed forth from it, setting alight vehicles and personnel in a plume of volcanic fire. Ammunition and explosives blow up, casting even greater confusion upon the panicking army.

Grabbing an AK-47 and a grenade launcher, the General gives his last commands to the Colonel next to him. "Evacuate the command vehicle, activate the troop transports! Get them as far away from here as possible… Initiate an all-out retreat. Take ALL the injured with you. It's been an honour to serve as your General."

Exiting the command vehicle, he loads the rifle. Behind him, Sgt. Gobber follows, equipped with a Milkor MGL.

"I was a fool… Gobber, follow the men out of here…"

"No, I'm staying with you, just in case you're thinking of doing something crazy."

"I can buy us some time to get out if I give it something to hunt!" The General is determined to at least do something right today. It is the least he can do for leading his army to certain doom.

Sgt. Gobber grabs the General's shoulder, "Then I can double that time."

Smiling, the two old friends face the monster. Yelling out a battle cry, they run towards the behemoth, firing away to draw its attention towards them. As a 40mm grenade explodes on the side of its face, the dragon turns to look at the two feeble humans and their futile attempts to hurt it.

Letting out another unearthly roar, the monster chomps down on its targets. However, the humans nimbly dodge it, and the dragon eats nothing but air. Frustrated the dragon takes a step back, and prepares its fiery breath again.

As the two old friends take one last look at each other, hoping that what they had done so far was sufficient to get their men home, they prepare themselves for dinner in hell.

_BOOM_

Before the dragon can activate its flamethrower, multiple explosions hit it on its thick skull from above, one after another. The rattle of multiple machine guns follow immediately, as well as the familiar buzz of a Gatling gun. Distracted, the dragon falls down, disabled for now.

Opening their eyes, the General and Sgt. Gobber look up in surprise, to hear a number of triumphant roars. Three… no, four small figures in the sky… birds? Planes?

No, Dragons.


	21. It's the End of the World as We Know It

**Chapter 2****1****:**** It's The End Of The World As We Know It, And I Feel Fine**

_-LOCATION UNTRACEABLE- 1__600__hrs__  
3SG Jack Haddock_

Unleashing a torrent of full metal jacket upon the monster, I am able to stun and distract it long enough for Toothless and Astrid's Nadder to swoop under its nose to grab Sgt. Gobber and the General, delivering them away from harm. Above, the rest of my platoon carries on from me, firing their weapons on dragonback.

"Fishlegs, structural analysis, now!" Taking advantage of his vast knowledge and analytical skills, Astrid requests for a brief breakdown and likely attack patterns of the behemoth standing between us and freedom.

"Heavily armoured skull and a tail made for crushing; stay clear of the latter, don't bother with attacking it head-on. Small eyes, large nostrils; relies heavily on smell, maybe hearing too,"

"Thanks," Over the intercom, I give the squad further orders, "Fishlegs, Snotlout, find its blind spot and weaken it from there. Make some noise, keep it confused. Twins, grab its attention, buy time for the other two; make it mad!"

"That's what I do best!"

"Since when? Everyone knows I'm more irritating..."

Those twins never catch a break, do they? "Just do as I told you, damn it! Astrid, you're with me. I'll be back ASAP. "

Taking off, we search for a clear landing zone to drop off the General and Sgt. Gobber. Finding one not too far away, I lead us down to it, releasing our passengers just above the ground. We land for a short moment, just to check that they are alright. Aside from a couple of small cuts and bruises, I see no major injuries that would require immediate attention. Satisfied that the two of them were safe, Astrid and I prepare to take off again.

She goes off first, returning to coordinate the rest of the squad. Suddenly, a firm hold grips my left forearm as I seat myself on Toothless. I turn to face the General, looking relieved, but still a little uneasy.

"Jack… I… I'm sorry… for everything."

Looking back, I see a genuine look, begging for forgiveness. Softening my expression, I sigh, and smile. "Me too… I'm sorry."

"You don't have to go out there…" He's worried.

"We're mercenaries. It's an occupational hazard." At that moment, the two of us looked into each others' eyes, and we came to an understanding. As father and son, we finally were one. Years of being so far apart, and all it took was simply talking to each other.

Firmly holding my hand, as a father does, the General sparks my confidence once more, "I'm proud to call you my son."

"Thanks, Dad." My voice wavering with emotion, I salute him, before soaring to the skies myself. Behind, I see him smiling genuinely. In my heart, I feel a final release, as the warm feeling of having finally been accepted by my father takes over.

_

* * *

_

3SG Astrid Hofferson

"Status updates!" Weaving through the stray fire, I check on the team.

"Target has a lock on the twins' Zippleback, they're drawing its attention away from us… Shit, does this thing have a blind spot?" Cursing, Snotlout and Fishlegs continue bombarding the massive dragon, now back up on its feet. They are firing their guns, using the noise to confuse it; tossing smoke grenades to blind it does nothing to conceal my platoon from its all-seeing five pairs of eyes.

Gritting my teeth, I arm myself with a pair of M79 single-shot grenade launchers loaded with 40mm flare grenades. Barrelling towards the monster head on, I fire off both launchers in opposite directions on both sides. At the same time, I release flashbangs, cooked to go off in mid-air in its face.

A loud screech indicates my success. The behemoth is temporarily blinded, and it thrashes about, confused and angered at the loss of its prey. Leaning back, I hold my dragon back and instruct it to hover for a while.

"Yeah! It worked… Oh crap… I'm losing the Gronckle!"

"Whoa… whoa! Shit, that was close."

Oops. The flares must have blinded our own dragons as well. Cursing at my lack of foresight, I whip around to try and salvage the situation.

Too late. I see Fishlegs tumbling towards the ground, and Snotlout falling onto the back of the monster. The former tosses his rifle over to the other boy, yelling at him to "Do something!" Disappearing into the cloud of sand and dust that was kicked up in the ruckus, I lose sight of him.

"Fishlegs, do you read me?" Yelling into the intercom, I begin to panic.

To my relief, I hear his voice loud and clear. "I'm okay… oof! Less… okay…"

I look over to Snotlout, and see him desperately firing both his and Fishlegs' guns at point-blank range, right into the face of the dragon. This successfully irritates it, preventing it from focusing its attention and sight onto any one particular target.

"What's wrong, buddy? Got something in your eye?" His taunts only serve to further annoy it, and letting out a loud roar of frustration, it bucks about, throwing the offending human off the back of its skull. Fortunately, he manages to grab hold onto a protrusion on its spine, while his weapons are shattered fifty metres below on the hard rocks and debris.

Shit, the situation isn't getting any better. Where is Jack?

"Hiccup, back in the air." I hear his voice over the intercom. Relief washes over me as I see the dark silhouette of his dragon against the evening sun, and I hope he and Toothless can turn the tides in our favour.

"Squad, team leader is off the ground! Twins, get Snotlout out of there, and retrieve Fishlegs!" I give further orders, while flying over to join Jack.

The twins zip across the air, narrowly avoiding the plume of volcanic flame that spewed from the monster's jaws. Extending the long necks of their Zippleback, it is enough for Snotlout to leap off the dragon's back and land neatly between them. "Snotlout is clear of target area. Resume assault!"

I follow them closely. Suddenly, I notice something wrong. The distance between me and the twins is vastly growing, as their backs greatly shrink in size. The wind around me increases in intensity, roaring past my ears, whipping through my hair. I look over my shoulder, and to my horror, I see a large, gaping black hole lined with razor-sharp metre-long teeth threatening to suck me in and impale me through.

I nudge furiously at my Nadder's sides with the heels of my boots, as it panics as well, flapping rapidly in a seemingly futile attempt to escape certain doom. Our attempts are to no avail, as the great vacuum is too strong for us to resist.

But I wasn't going to go down so easy. Unslinging the many weapons around me, I toss them off. Reaching for a HE grenade, I prepare to toss it between the monster's jaws.

A loud, piercing whistle sounds throughout the battlefield.

"Night Fury!"

"Get down!"

I hear yells of fear from the escaping soldiers on the ground. That had better be what I think it is.

The whistling noise grows louder, and develops into a loud screech. A bright blue bolt streaks past me, and explodes on the inside of the behemoth's mouth, just behind us. The large dragon recoils in pain, having had its insides charred by the plasma. I am not let off as well. The impact throws me off my steed, and I find myself hurtling towards the ground at breakneck speed.

I close my eyes and hope that the ground isn't as hard as I think it would be.

It never hits me.

I feel the wind whip through my hair, blowing back my braid. I hear a familiar voice, one that my heart leapt at, "Did you get her?"

I peek open, and smile in relief as I see Toothless looking down at me, holding onto my legs with his front claws. He gives me his trademark grin, and growls softly. He tosses me up to catch me by my arms before gently letting me down on my feet and taking off in the direction he came from.

My heart, still fluttering, spills over with emotion, and I look to the skies at the receding black silhouette of my knight in desert camouflage, and his noble black steed, chasing them as they flew off.

Go.

_

* * *

_

3SG Jack Haddock

Looking down at the great beast below, I notice something as we soar towards the sky.

"It has wings… Okay! Let's see if it can use them!" Rearing up Toothless, we do a 180-degree flip and dive towards the ground. The wind screams past us, and whistles across his wings. Aligning the digital sights on my visor with the target, I let loose another torrent of steel. Through the buzz of machine gun fire, Toothless blasts the monster with his own rain of plasma.

As the blue shockwave dissipates, the beast lets out another unholy roar. However, this time, it was especially piercing, and was unearthly. It lasts for longer than usual, and sends chills down my spine. Even Toothless is visibly shaken.

Spreading its great, grey, leathery wings, the dragon flaps once, and sends forth a great squall.

What happens next shocks me, terrifying me to the core.

Below us, the bodies of dragons and humans, dead to the bone, begin to move. The bullet-riddled cadavers of dead flying reptiles, and the charred corpses of once-brave men and women that lay lifeless on the sand now rise up, the breath of life bestowed upon them once again.

But they are not alive. Neither are they dead. What are they?

The living dead rise one by one, as dragon and human alike stand rooted to the ground in pure terror. Moans and shrieks from the newly-reanimated freeze blood and chill the spine.

The grey behemoth itself takes off the ground, roaring once again, sending its army of the dead to tear apart the living, literally limb from limb. Screams and yells emerge, as the zombies attacked, consuming flesh and murdering the living in the most brutal and gory ways possible. The sand is stained red as blood soaks the desert below.

My God…


	22. 2012 Came Late

**Chapter 22:**** 2012 Came Late**

_-LOCATION UNTRACEABLE- 1645hrs__  
3SG Astrid Hofferson_

For the first time in years, I am well and truly terrified. Never before have I felt such fear. My blood is frozen, my legs shaking, my heart pounding against my ribcage. Around me, friends and fellow soldiers are equally horror-struck.

"Oh my God…"

"How is this possible…"

Whatever that monster has done, it has turned our own against us. Possessed by unholy force, they lumber towards the surviving humans. One by one, soldiers are torn apart by the living dead. Screams of death echo throughout, as the toll rises. The remaining tanks are overwhelmed and overrun; trapped within, the soldiers can only cry as they are disabled, disembowelled and decapitated by zombie dragons. Foul gas from rotting jaws ignites, blowing apart a number of vehicles, adding to the chaos.

A single zombie visually picks me out from the gathering bunch of soldiers, moving towards me. I cannot take anymore of this. My knees buckle, and I collapse on the ground, dumbstruck. I am frozen by its eerie gaze and spine-chilling howl. Realising my impending doom, my mind turns into a whirl, clouding out all emotion and rational thought. Only one thing passes through my mind.

Jack… help me… I don't want it to end this way… not now…

The creature is now within range. Grabbing me with its bloodied arms, it rears its head back, ready to tear into my jugular. Its foul breath throws me further into the cloud of numbness.

I guess this is it.

_BOOM_

I am jolted back to my senses, as the zombie's head blows apart like a watermelon, red slosh splattering all over. The impact knocks it away from me, and it lands with a sickening crack on a rock not too far away.

"Sarge! Are you alright?"

What a sight for sore eyes.

There stood Ruffnut, with her smoking Pancor Jackhammer. Flanking her was the rest of the platoon; Tuffnut with his G36 Carbine, Snotlout dual-wielding MP5 submachine guns and Fishlegs carrying an M249 SAW. To my surprise, she had retrieved the guns I tossed off myself earlier. Handing them over to me, I regain my composure with the feel of cold gunmetal upon my skin.

"Get into the troop transports, now! Fall back to base!" The order rings out, and warriors scramble to the remaining trucks and LAVs. More fall in the ensuing ruckus, but most make it safely onto the transports, covering fire provided by a handful of Apache attack helicopters and those already in safe positions. Machine gun fire tears through the walking corpses, and sufficiently holds off the advancing horde. The injured are escorted out first, as the transports crush rotting zombies under their advance. Heavy-duty wheels and treads are soaked red with blood and pieces of flesh, but they make it through with the help of the attack choppers.

But it is still not enough. Too many transports have been damaged beyond use, leaving behind a handful of brave warriors. Surrounded by the fetid stench of death, the remaining hundred-plus soldiers gather together, clinging onto straws of hope. Among them are my platoon and I, as well as the General himself. Above us, the grey monster circles like a vulture to its dying prey.

At the head of the congregated survivors, the General stands, shaken, but still alive. Across the radio frequency, he speaks. "Men, this is your General speaking. We're surrounded by an enemy that has come from hell itself. We have lost a large part of our forces, brave men and women who have given their lives for our cause. But we will not falter. We will not give up. This last fight will be one we give to ensure that our future is a bright one."

"There's no other way, men. They are no longer our comrades-in-arms. If you want to stay alive for as long as possible, open fire! Take them down with us! It's been an honour serving as your General."

"Tonight, we dine in Hell!" The General's voice booms throughout, reinstating confidence in the last remnants of his forces. Roaring out a battle cry, the soldiers let loose their guns, squeezing the triggers and unloading upon the advancing horde of undead. RPGs and rocket launchers clear the path for the last remaining transport as it roars through the ranks of zombies.

My P90s hose out lead in all directions, tearing through zombie flesh and blowing apart rotting dragon skulls. Taking a breather to reload both guns, I look to the skies, frantically searching for any sign of Jack or Toothless.

Straining my eyes through my ballistic goggles, I finally notice the two of them flitting around the flying behemoth. Once every few seconds, bright sparks indicate gunfire from the Gatling gun and GPMG mounted on Toothless, distracting the dragon, annoying it. Larger blue plasma bolts from Toothless pelt it as well, doing more damage than full metal jacket bullets. The monster thrashes about in the sky, but its attempts to knock the two of them out of the sky are futile; the Night Fury is way too agile, as he is as one with his rider.

Smirking, my confidence is boosted, knowing that somehow, Jack would save us all. Re-cocking my guns, I take aim once again. I lick a drop of sweat that rolls down the side of my mouth. Pulling the trigger, I let my dance partners do the talking once more.

_

* * *

_

1735hrs

"They just keep coming!"

"How many are there?"

We've been firing non-stop for nearly half an hour now, but the zombie horde doesn't seem to be thinning out in any way. I am nearly out of bullets for my SMGs, and I am also out of grenades as well. Gritting my teeth, I look to the skies; Jack doesn't seem to be having any progress with the beast either.

"There has to be another way…"

Looking about, I spot an anti-aircraft gun a short distance away. Wondering why no one had noticed it earlier, I radio my platoon over the intercom. "Guys, new objective; Four 'o clock, approximately 150 metres out, mobile AA guns, we take those cannons and use them to do some damage!"

"Roger that!"

Gathering with our backs to one another, I instruct them to load their guns one more time. "Make sure your magazines are full; We only have one shot at this, if we fail, we die."

"Good luck, Sergeant." The General's voice emits through my intercom, surprising me. Regaining my composure, I reply, "Thank you, Sir; We're going to need it."

Nodding in acknowledgement, my platoon… my friends… steel themselves for what could be our last fight together.

"Ready? On my signal…"

I can feel the atmosphere tense up as they move into position.

"Go!"

Breaking out of our defensive perimeter, the five of us move out swiftly. Staying in arrow formation with me leading the charge, Snotlout and Fishlegs on either side on me, and the twins flanking the rear, we cut a straight line through the ranks of the undead.

The rattle of gunfire accompanies splattering blood and flesh, merging into a symphony of death. The boys' rifles fire relentlessly upon the surrounding dead to stop them in their tracks, while the twins clear our sides and finish them off with their automatic shotguns. In front, I cut open the path with my dual submachine guns.

125 metres to go.

"Watch out, dragons ahead!"

Warning my comrades, I duck down, sliding smoothly between the widespread legs, under the decomposing belly of the zombie Nadder. Snotlout leaps neatly over an attacking Nightmare corpse, and Fishlegs calmly bashes aside an incoming undead Gronckle. Leaping over one another, the twins assist each other in avoiding an incoming fireblast from a disembodied Zippleback . Returning to formation, we resume firing away at the zombies.

75 metres to go.

"Shit, out of bullets… Snotlout! Cover me, reloading!"

Falling back, I holster my P90s; I've got no more bullets for my buddies here, so I switch over to my XM8 battle rifle. Cocking it, I flick the safety off, and switch to full automatic fire. I am surprised by its efficient handling and deadly accuracy, as I line up the targets through the ACOG scope, but now is not the time to be wondering why the US military didn't choose this rifle.

Retaking my place at the front of the formation, I switch to the underslung grenade launcher.

"Eat this, zombies!" The 40mm HE grenade punches a hole through one zombie, the impact shattering its chest apart in a mess of bone and blood, and explodes as it hits the ground, going up in the middle of another group of zombies in a great ball of fire.

25 metres to go.

"Snotlout, Fishlegs, the two of you get on those guns and fire away; Twins, we'll set up a defensive perimeter. DO NOT let the zombies close to those cannons!" As I finish my orders, I empty the last of the bullets through the 20-inch barrel of my XM8. Unslinging the Barrett .50-calibre Sniper rifle, I get ready for some heavy action.

Getting down into a high-kneeling position, I unleash a torrent of depleted uranium shells. The signature gunshots from this weapon ring out one after another; the semi-automatic nature removed the need to cock the rifle every time I fired, unlike the bolt-action rifles of yesteryear. The floating-barrel system reduced recoil, and despite the immense weight of the rifle, I was still able to punch through the zombies with great ease. A single large bullet tears through the thick skulls of a number of zombies neatly lined up on the targeting reticle on the scope. One by one, I pick off the undead, emptying the area of hostiles.

_Click. _The now-empty magazine didn't mean that I was done using the rifle. Getting up, I swing the rifle around, smashing the butt of the gun into the skull of an advancing dragon corpse, its great heft multiplying the force. Blood splatters across my arms and face, adding to my adrenaline-fuelled battle rage with its smell. Whirling around, I bash through another hostile. Stabbing the long barrel through three more human zombies lined up together, I let go of the gun, kicking the twice-dead creatures away. I rip off the rotting wings of another dragon zombie, before crushing it under my boots.

Drawing my Smith & Wesson revolvers, one in each hand, I take down the last of the zombies, one by one. Pistols firing alternately, I blow neat holes through the heads and bodies of the corpses. Left, right, left, right…

"Target zone clear! Twins, defenses up, now! Snotlout, take ground targets; Fishlegs, assist Jack, take down that dragon!"

Unslinging the Ultimax 100 and SAR-21A LMGs off my back, I dual-wield them Rambo-style. I had been saving these babies for the best and last part. Grinning, I pull the charging handles on both and fit the butts of both machine guns neatly between my arms and my chest.

"Let's Dance, Boys!"


	23. Blaze Edge

**Chapter 23:**** Blaze Edge**

_-LOCATION UNTRACEABLE- 1735hrs__  
3SG Jack Haddock_

Weaving through the clouds, we narrowly dodge another attempt to knock us out of the air. As the massive clubbed tail swings across us, Toothless deftly swerves aside, out of its trajectory. Soaring ahead of the monster's snout, we lead it farther and farther up into the darkening twilight sky.

Though I am worried for my friends and fellow soldiers below facing the hordes of undead summoned by the monster's necromancer-like abilities, something in me says that they can somehow pull through. Trusting my instincts, I place my faith in Astrid and my father; please, at least survive until I can defeat this beast. After all, from what I can hear on the radio frequencies, they're doing pretty well on their own; the injured are on their way back, and the survivors are fighting back with all they've got.

Amazingly, for its size, the dragon is able to keep up with my Night Fury; its dark, leathery wings flap almost gracefully, propelling it with unprecedented speed. However, fast as it may be, Toothless still wins in agility.

Flitting left to right, right to left, we nimbly avoid its massive jaws as they close on the air around us. The monster roars in frustration, failing again and again to thwart us.

"Alright, Toothless, time to disappear!" Switching gears, I bring Toothless into a steep climb towards the twilight clouds. The altimeter on my visor rapidly increases, the numbers turning into a blur as Toothless ascends with the speed his species is famed for.

A beeping noise alerts me, and I notice a massive heat buildup on our six, indicated on my visor. Turning around, I see green fumes collect in the behemoth's jaws. Taking action, I nudge Toothless, warning him. "Here it comes!"

The stream of fire spews forth again, accompanied by the cloud of black smoke. Doing a perfect barrel roll, Toothless swiftly flies out of harm's way, moving beyond the range and trajectory of the colossal flamethrower. Momentarily caught in the foul darkness, I cough, eyes irritated by the pollutant.

"Alright, that's it! Now I'm really pissed off! No more Mr. Nice Guy!" Pulling on the harness, I bring Toothless through a 180-degree Hi-G turn, and enter a dive-bomb procedure.

Soaring towards the approaching behemoth at breakneck speed, I pull the trigger, and fire an unrelenting wave of 7.62mm pain upon the thick armour of its skull. Following up by releasing heat-seeking missiles and rockets, I am able to stun the monster for a little longer. Toothless finishes with a bolt of plasma of his own, and deals sufficient damage to knock it off course.

Roaring in rage, the monster whips around and snaps its jaws, only to eat thin air and clouds.

Perfectly camouflaged in the darkening clouds and remnants of black smoke, Toothless and I are invisible; the only indication of our presence are the signature screeches that Toothless' wings makes against the wind.

Having lost us, the dragon hovers, frustrated, sniffing furiously to try and catch our scent. Irritated roars and growls punctuate its actions. Five pairs of eyes aren't so useful now, are they?

From behind its line of sight, a bright blue bolt punches through the clouds, exploding on its wing, singeing it. Screeching in pain, the dragon turns around, only to lose its target yet again. It's not long before another plasma ball slams into its other wing. More rockets and missiles go up in balls of fire, blasting its wings even more.

Again and again, Toothless executes perfectly-placed blasts and bombing runs, all his shots hitting the mark.

Never seen, and never misses.

Swooping down once more to deliver a final blow, we give it all we've got, unleashing the full arsenal that is loaded upon my dragon. Missiles, bombs, rockets and plasma bolts go up in a brilliant display of fireworks. An agonized roar pierces through the clouds, as the dragon is wounded severely, its armour useless against the unyielding barrage that we had just pulled off.

Thrashing about, the dragon spits another plume of volcanic fire, this time spewing it in all directions, hoping to catch us in it. It was like someone trying to catch a fly with a flamethrower. The flame brushes dangerously close to us, as I feel the heat singe the side of my clothes.

"Warning: Kevlar straps melting; artificial tail fin integrity compromised," The digital voice on my visor and the red warning lights come on, bringing my worst worries to reality. Time was ticking away, and I only had a small window of opportunity left to carry out the last stage of my plan.

"Shit…. Alright, time's up buddy, let's hope this works!" Whipping around, we enter a perpendicular dive towards the ground, soaring past the monster as we do so, catching its attention.

It takes the bait.

_

* * *

_

1750hrs  
3SG Astrid Hofferson

Firing both my light machineguns from the hip, I hose out a combined total of over 800 rounds per minute in all directions. One after another, I turn zombies to a blood-red mess of Swiss cheese and brain ooze, riddled with bullet holes and hot steel. Blood splatters across my neon-green goggles, adding a sick shade of red to my field of vision. The recoil steadily pushes me back, but I stand my ground. Spraying lead across my line of sight, I form one-third of a defensive triangle around the two anti-aircraft cannons which Snotlout and Fishlegs are manning.

At the other two corners, Ruffnut is holding her own with twin AK-47s, going battle-crazy and more than a little trigger-happy. Tuffnut is doing perfectly fine as well, his AA-12 automatic 12-gauge shotgun shattering undead like a shotgun does. From within the formation, the autocannons fire away, punching massive holes through the hostiles, and mostly disintegrating the bodies with the sheer force of the 35mm shells. As expected, they made taking down the large horde easier.

"Is it just me, or are they getting even slower… Hey, look up!" Tuffnut's exclamation draws our attention momentarily. From the thick cloudline, all we can see are flashes of bright lights, blue and orange in colour. Low booms are heard as well, sounding almost like thunder.

But it isn't a storm.

Suddenly, a familiar voice crackles through the intercom, punctuated with static, "To all units, clear the immediate area! Get to cover, now! Estimated time to impact is 30 seconds!"

Jack… What's going on up there?

Moving swiftly without letting up the fire upon the zombies, I order my platoon to get up against the anti-aircraft guns; hopefully the vehicles are able to withstand what's going to come.

I look up just in time to see a massive shape burst through the clouds, barrelling towards the ground. It lets out another of its roars, raging at its infuriating prey. At the tip of its snout, I can just make out a tiny speck – Toothless. My heart skips a beat; what is he thinking?

_

* * *

_

3SG Jack Haddock

The digits on my altimeter are turning into blurs, rapidly decreasing in number, as gravity pulls us closer and closer towards the ground. Wings folded in, Toothless forms a perfect streamlined shape, providing sufficient speed for us to stay just ahead of the monster in pursuit of us, its massive wings flapping furiously to keep up.

"Stay with me, buddy, just a little longer…" I calm Toothless down, keep him focused on our objective; he's getting a little worried, seeing as the ground is rapidly advancing towards us.

"Heat buildup, detected. Flammable gas collection in immediate vicinity." The AI's voice and the beeping within the visor give me the signal I am waiting for.

"Toothless… hold." I await for the right moment.

"… NOW!"

Spreading his wings wide, Toothless stops our descent, spinning around in a flash. Unleashing one final brilliant blue bolt of plasma, he hits his mark, right on target. Exploding from within, the green fumes ignite, exploding and catching fire from the behemoth's insides. The smell of burnt dragon flesh fills my nose, a foul scent. Its many eyes widen in shock, as it notices its close proximity to the ground.

Extending its own wings, it hopes to stop itself from crashing into the desert. All part of the plan.

Those wings are already badly damaged, given the bombardment they received earlier. Unable to take the sudden resistance and pressure, small holes rip wider, tearing large gashes through the leathery flaps. Roaring in agony and defeat, the monster can only let itself fall to its doom.

Crashing straight into the ground, the dragon disappears in a massive explosion, a mushroom cloud of black smoke and orange fire. The zombies are caught in the explosion as well, burning them and charring them beyond repair, ending their threat once and for all.

Though defeated, the monster's threat hasn't ended yet. The flames were catching up to us; we had to get out to safety as quickly as possible.

"Artificial tail fin integrity at zero percent… tail fin lost…"

Turning around, I look in horror as the fin disintegrates into shattered pieces. The last thing I see is the massive, bony clubbed tail falling towards me.

"No... No, not now! NO!"

Crashing into Toothless, the impact knocks the wind out of me, shattering my visor.

All goes black, the pain consuming my body like a fire.


	24. No Winners In War

**Chapter 24:**** No Winners In War**

_-LOCATION UNTRACEABLE- 1815hrs__  
3SG Astrid Hofferson_

"Kuh… Status report… Guys?" Coughing through the collecting clouds of dust and sand that fogged up my vision, I send out a search signal to the rest. Visibility is extremely low in the current conditions, and the darkening sky wasn't helping at all. I needed to check on my platoon; we were separated in the confusion that followed the impact of the collision.

"Snotlout, reading you loud and clear."

"Fishlegs present…"

"Twins, together and still breathing. Tuffnut's got a twisted ankle, though."

"It's nothing… agh! Nothing some time at the medic won't fix…"

"Roger, keep him with you. Platoon, rendezvous at the twins' location." Acquiring their locations by tracing their signal, I radio them the coordinates of the RV point. "Jack, do you hear me?"

Silence meets my inquiry.

Shit.

"Repeat; Jack, do you hear me?"

Please, no…

"Jack, please respond! Jack!" My voice wavers, as I begin to panic.

This can't be happening…

Switching on my torchlight to brighten up the environment, I frantically search through the dense cloud of dust, looking out for any sign of him or Toothless.

Nothing.

"Squad, maintain RV location, then get back to the rest of the task force upon regrouping; I'm going to find Jack." Changing my course, I head for ground zero. My heart is pounding against my ribcage, soaked in worry. Not knowing what to expect, I can only hope that the worst didn't happen.

My cautious walk speeds up to a panicked run. The longer I don't hear from him, the more I feel the agonizing anxiety spread through my systems. I resume trying to contact him over the intercom, "Jack, can you hear me? Please respond! Give me a sign!"

Soon, I stumble upon the unmoving wreckage; the giant was downed, charred all over. The impact had smashed a smoking crater into the ground, the sand glassed over on the surface by the heat. The smell of carbon filled my respiratory tract, causing me to flinch a little. But I can't give up. Not until I find him.

"Jack! Jack! Where are you? Son!" I hear another voice; not the one I was hoping for, but a familiar one nonetheless. Through the shadows I can just make out the hulking silhouette of the General, turning about, probing about the scene, looking for his lost son.

Suddenly, he stops. As if drawn towards something, he stumbles forward. I cautiously make my way over, wondering what he has discovered.

I see him drop to his knees, in what seems to be an act of disappointment and disbelief combined. The dust is settling, revealing the scene in full to me. In front of the General lay a lifeless jet-black lump covered in obsidian scales. A brown leather harness is strapped across it; smashed, damaged machine guns hang off its sides. An empty seat lay on it, torn and burnt black.

Oh, no…

My legs turn to jelly, and my knees crumble to dust. Heart wrenching under the realisation, a lump forms in my throat, choking me with emotion. The floodgates open, and the tears flow through the cracks in my goggles, leaving wet streaks in the dirt on my cheeks. I can't say anything; speechless from the shock, my mind disintegrates into a mess of questions and memories.

The world suddenly feels so cold and bitter, even as I feel Ruffnut's comforting hand on my shoulder.

The black lump abruptly shifts, and two golden eyes slowly spread open. They stare piercingly at the General, and the gathering soldiers. Still a little wary, the dragon growls softly through its closed mouth. The General bows his head, and I can faintly make out the words of sadness and guilt that tumble out of his mouth.

"I… I'm so sorry… I did this…"

Behind us, more low growls emerge, as more dragons gather around, curious, but seemingly understanding of the situation, given their lowered heads and sad expressions.

Toothless blinks understandingly, as if forgiving the General, absolving him of his sins towards his kind. Slowly, he unfurls his midnight wings.

Inside, lying unconscious on the dragon's torso, was Jack.

"Son!" Rushing forward, the General lifts his son up into a sitting position. Checking for signs of life, he worriedly places his fingers against Jack's neck.

His face transforms into an expression of pure happiness and relief, fighting back tears of joy as he announces the news, in a voice choked with emotion.

"He's alive! You brought him back alive!

Hearty cheers fill my ears as the soldiers express their shared relief at the survival of the boy who saved us all. Joyous roars add to the atmosphere as the dragons join in, visibly glad that they had been released from their enslavement by the now-dead behemoth.

My heart leaps, filled with new hope spreading warmth throughout my body; the tears of anguish change to tears of joy. My hands leap my face, covering my mouth in an expression of pure elation. I cannot contain my emotions, a mixed vat of feelings bubbling over, bringing to a conclusion this roller coaster ride of sensations.

Placing a thankful hand upon the visibly exhausted dragon's snout, the General gives his warmest regards to Toothless, "Thank you… for saving my son…"

Toothless, tired from the action, can only look on understandingly, as if saying, "It's my duty. I was just doing what he would have done for me."

Beside him, Sgt. Gobber steps up, "Well, um… most of him…"

Huh?

_

* * *

_

Barracks, Installation 83-RK  
Several days later, 0640hrs  
3SG Jack Haddock

A warm wind blows over my face, threatening to wake me up. Snuggling deeper into the warm, comfortable sheets, I resist the need to get up; gravity is too strong… can't… resist… A low growl, and then a nudge force me to pry open my eyes.

"Mmnnnweird dream… no, I don't wanna wake up… 5 more minutes…"

I look up wearily, to face a pair of giant yellow eyes, and a black snout breathing down my face. The eyes widen, and Toothless nudges me some more.

"Hey buddy… what are you doing up so early… OW!" The wind is knocked out of me, as his heavy foot presses sharply into my stomach as he gets off the bed.

Bed?

I'm… in my bunk… Toothless… is in my bunk…. excitedly leaping about and knocking over stuff…

Does my dad know about this?

"No, Toothless, don't…" the excited Night Fury leaps up onto my platoon mate's shelf. Exhausted from my sleep, I try and get off the bed to calm him down. "Aw, come on…"

Wait… what's this funny feeling? I can't feel my leg. Probably temporary numbness… was I sleeping well last night?

Lifting the sheets, I look down.

Okay… so all that wasn't a dream.

Toothless comes down from his perch, and looks at me curiously, anticipating something. I sigh heavily, wondering what was going to happen now. This was going to be awkward.

My left leg… is no more. Probably lost in that assault against the great monster. In its place is a bionic prosthetic, not too different from the one Sgt. Gobber uses, only slightly more advanced, and maybe a little sleeker.

Well, no point moping over it. At least it looks cool. Placing my right leg over the side of the bed, I gently bring my artificial leg down onto the ground. Toothless sniffs at it curiously, and realises what it is. Raising his head to look me in the face, he growls softly, comforting me; "It's okay, I know how that feels."

Smiling at his gesture of concern, and humming the RoboCop theme song to myself, I slowly get up, gradually placing pressure onto the bionic foot as I take my first step forward.

The pain shoots up my entire left side, and I collapse forward. Thankfully, Toothless is there to catch me as I fall.

"Argh… ooh… thanks, bud…" I am able to mutter out a little thanks before slowly making my way over to the door, supported by Toothless all the way. Playing Darth Vader's March in my head helped a little with the pain, numbing it for a while as I hobbled over. Reaching the door, I take a deep breath, supporting myself against the handle.

The moment I swing it open, I slam it shut, as shocked as I am afraid.

What the hell is a Nightmare doing outside my bunk?


	25. Jumpin' Jack Flash

**Chapter 25:**** Jumpin' Jack Flash**

_Barracks, Installation 83-RK, 0645hrs  
3SG Jack Haddock_

Fearing for my life, I quietly tell Toothless to stay down. Swallowing, I slowly pry open the door. Peeking out, I am completely taken aback by the sight. Dumbfounded, I take a full step out, pushing open the door all the way.

"All right guys! Are we ready? Let's ride!" Some soldier was on the back of a Nightmare, leading more riders, each with their own dragons, in a flight towards the rising sun. Looking over the parapet lining the corridor, I see dragons all over the base. My jaw is hanging, I am absolutely speechless. Is this some sort of hallucination?

Normally, I would have dismissed this as just another raid, but this time there is strangely no gunfire, no burning structures, and no cannons being activated. In fact, there were absolutely no signs of hostility on either side. Some soldiers were still working in close proximity, heck, even riding with the reptiles we would have considered hated enemies before. To add to the ridiculous situation, I could have sworn that there are dragons working _together_ with soldiers, helping to rebuild and repair damaged buildings and vehicles.

I can only stand there, looking like an idiot with a look of utter and complete confusion on my face. I can only come to one logical conclusion.

"I knew it. I'm dead!"

Bellowing laughter is heard from behind me. "Ha ha, no… but you gave it your best shot!"

A warm, welcoming arm embraces my shoulders. My father, looking relieved and happy, brings me down, supporting me as I exit the barracks. Toothless follows closely behind, seemingly having made his peace with my father.

"Look! It's Hiccup!" Ah… the ever-familiar nickname for me. I smile a little as I take in the attention I never had before. Cheers and applause sound out as the soldiers in the immediate vicinity rush over to congratulate me.

"Glad to see you're recovering well!"

"Thank you for saving us all… in fact, thank you for everything!"

"Those dragons aren't so bad after all, eh?"

"We were getting worried; the hero, knocked out for over two weeks!"

Still a little confused about the situation, and maybe a bit claustrophobic from all the crowding personnel all around me, I turn to my father, "Dad?"

Beaming proudly, he gives me a warm embrace. "Turns out… all we needed, was a little more of… this"

"… You just gestured to all of me." I'm still not getting anything…

Sgt. Gobber squeezes through the crowd, eager to see me again. He gestures towards the bionic leg, "Well, most of ya… that bit's my handiwork, a little collaboration between me and the medical officers."

"You think it'll do?" He asks for my opinion.

Taking a closer look, I give a short appraisal, to Sgt. Gobber's amusement. "Well… I might make a couple of modifications here and there…"

A hard blow from behind almost knocks me over, the blunt force hurting my upper arm. Clutching my shoulder in pain, I whip around to see Astrid, fist raised.

"That's for scaring me!"

What the-? Was it always going to be this way? I save the village, become a hero, and that's all I get from her? What's it going to take for her to _appreciate_ me? I really don't understand-

Another force yanks me forward, as she grabs my shirt, pulling me towards her into a deep kiss. The softness on my lips dissolves all rational thought in my head, as my mind turns into a whirl of fluff and cotton candy. Even some idiots doing wolf-whistles and catcalls in the background couldn't ruin the mood.

Sweet… smells of strawberries…

Pulling me back into reality, we separate. Blushing madly, she gives me a tight hug. Whispering into my ear, I can tell she was upset, "I was so worried… I don't want to lose you… I love you, Jack."

My heart warming to her words, I can only return the hug, patting her back, "It's okay… I'm back, aren't I?"

Relaxing, she smiles shyly, letting go of me for now. Her face is still red; I haven't seen this cute side of her before, and my heart leaps at the beauty standing in front of me. I could get used to this.

"Here, I… um… made some repairs based on the designs I found in your room while you were out," Sheepishly, she hands me a large polycarbonate case. Is this…?

I open it, and in it is a shining, brand new tail fin; similar in design to the one I built, but sturdier, built from scratch using tougher, newer materials. Fully extended, it reveals an insignia in the design of a Viking battle-maiden, hand-painted onto the fin. An improved, hardier harness was in there as well, fitted with new hydraulics and sturdier pedals, as well as a fresh leather seat. Oiled and ready for action, it's a perfect get-well-soon gift. She must have spent days on this.

"By the way, Jack," the General draws my attention, handing me a rank insignia and iron-on badge in the same design as what was painted onto the fin. "Son, I'm promoting you to the rank of Captain. You'll be in command of a newly-formed dragon combat unit; Odin Squadron. We're no longer fighting against dragons; we're fighting alongside them now."

"Thank you…" That's the only thing I can say, as I am overwhelmed by gratitude. Astrid leans close again, pecking me lightly on the cheek. "Welcome home, Valkyrie Leader."

Wow, what an improvement over the old callsign.

"Night Fury!"

Reflexively, the soldiers cower, despite knowing that there was no threat. Well, can't expect them to change an age-old habit. Knocking aside unwitting bystanders, Toothless leaps over the crowd, jumping off unexpecting soldiers, before landing in front of me, excited at seeing the new tail.

I sheepishly grin, apologizing to the knocked-over personnel, as Astrid giggles to my side.

Looking over to the tail fin, I ready myself to fix it on. Time to try this out.

_

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Dragon Combat Training Grounds (Converted), Installation 83-RK, 0800hrs  
Cpt. Jack 'Valkyrie Leader' Haddock

The harness fits perfectly. The fin works excellently, and is smooth, moving in tandem with the shifting pedal. Speaking of which, the pedal is custom-fit for my bionic leg. Achieving 100% sync rate with the systems between my newly-improved visor and those on the harness had never been so easy. Smiling in satisfaction, I take a look at the surroundings.

To my side, the newly-promoted Lieutenant Astrid has gotten onto her own dragon, the Nadder she had taken into that battle with her. On it is its own harness, similar to mine in design, with its own customizations and hardpoints. Around me, the new members of Odin Squadron gather. It's a small unit of no more than 50 personnel and dragons, but a significant one that cements our alliance with the dragons. Anyway, we can give it time to grow, right?

"Ready, buddy? Let's ride!"

Taking to the skies, I enjoy the ever-familiar feeling of the wind caressing my skin, blowing through my hair. Behind me, Astrid rides on, closing the gap between us, slowly getting used to the feeling of dragon riding. It's not long before she catches up, almost overtaking me as we race through the base; over signal towers and between sentry blocks. Weaving around, the exhilaration returns to me, and I lose myself in the ecstasy.

The rest of the squadron is now in the air, following our lead, some flying like it's their second nature, and some still coming to grips with the skills needed.

"This is Valkyrie One, come in Valkyrie Leader," Astrid tests her on-dragon intercom.

"Valkyrie Leader reads you loud and clear. Ready to eat my dust, Valkyrie One?"

"Roger, Valkyrie Leader, not if you eat mine first!" Cheers ring out across the sky, as we soar towards the desert sun.

This is Installation 83-RK.

There's a drought 9 months of the year, and a sandstorm the other three. Any food that manages to grow here is dry, tough and tasteless.

The people that grow here are even more so.

The only upside is the pets. While other places have camels, or cats, we have…

Dragons.


	26. Epilogue: The World Is Just Awesome

**Chapter 26: Epilogue: The World Is Just Awesome**

_Ruins east of Installation 83-RK, 1915hrs  
Lt. Astrid Hofferson_

"Move it, Corporal; your equipment doesn't pack itself up! You're eating into your own rest time! The later you finish, the later you fall out!"

Harsh as always, I yell at the trainees, pressing them wrap up quickly. The transports back to camp were already here and waiting for them. Lazing around and taking their own time, it's going to require some tough training on my part to get them going, "The rules are simple, you don't follow them, your loss!"

We've converted the old ruins near the base into a live-fire training area for the Odin Squadron flight teams. The first batch of trainees is still wet behind the ears, not used to handling and riding their own dragons. Some are still stuck with trying to get off the ground without falling off; many are slowly getting used to the basic manoeuvres; only the few of us who have actually flown the dragons before are doing so effortlessly.

Arms crossed over my chest, I do some personal after-action review.

They're still lacking that bond between rider and dragon. They still lack trust in their steeds. Though understandably so; it's only been a couple of weeks since the great battle against what we now term the "Grey Reaper". Many of the trainees are young, and some have even lost their loved ones in that fateful battle. Trust takes time to build, it might be days, weeks, or even months before these riders bond with their dragons.

My brow furrows as I lose myself further in my thoughts.

"Whoa… hey there, Lightning," I am jolted back to reality by a gentle nudge from my hungry Nadder. Placing a gloved hand on her snout, I pat her warmly, telling her to wait for just a little longer. "Don't worry, Light, we'll be done soon. Just you wait; we'll get you a nice fresh piece of imported Atlantic cod once we get back to base, alright?"

She replies with a low, irritated growl. I sigh; Jack never told me dragons were so high-maintenance. She's already exhausted the supply of food that I brought along this morning for training. I didn't even get a bite in…

Speaking of Jack…

I look up to the evening sky. Slowly, the shade of twilight hues is spreading across the great canvas, following the receding orb of light. Above, a lone dragon glides about, climbing and falling through the thin layers of sparse clouds. A smile creeps onto my face, as I lose myself in the scene. Watching them fly… I feel a sense of tranquility. It's strangely therapeutic.

Another purr from Lightning urges me on.

"Snotlout, make sure everyone gets back to base. Do a headcount, then fall them out. Go ahead without me and Jack; we'll make it back ourselves." I radio him instructions; Giving up to temptation, I get on Lightning, strap on my goggles, and take to the skies myself.

"Got it, Valkyrie One."

Picking up altitude, we climb higher and higher, reaching for the appearing stars. The air brushes against my exposed skin, and I recollect the memories of my first flight on Toothless. The beauty of the world, and all its sights and sounds, truly enthralled me, and for the first time, actually made me realise how awesome this world is.

I finally catch up to Jack and Toothless, taking position right behind them. Noticing me, Jack slows down Toothless, allowing Lightning to fly beside him.

We fly in silence for a little longer, taking in the breathtaking view of the night sky, the stars and the lights of the Installation that dotted the horizon. It's as awesome as it was the first time I saw it, never ceasing to amaze me.

"Never gets old, huh?" Jack is the first to break the silence.

"Nope."

"It kinda make you want to…"

"Break into song?" I finish the sentence for him.

"… What?" He looks at me, bewildered, completely caught off guard by my unexpected reply.

Coughing awkwardly to hide my embarrassment, I wave it off, "No… nothing, just… just ignore me; random thoughts."

Returning my thoughts to focus on steering Lightning, I try to clear my mind. Some stupid song just won't get out of my head…

_

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Dragon Hangars, Installation 83-RK, 2000hrs  
Lt. Astrid Hofferson

After putting the dragons to rest for the night, Jack and I take an evening stroll through the quiet base. The cool night air is refreshing, providing a nice respite from the tiring rigours of training.

A low growl breaks the silence. I blush, realising that it was coming from my stomach. Damn, I know I haven't eaten dinner yet, but this really isn't good timing! Highly embarrassed, I look away from Jack, hiding my beet-red face from him, while clutching my abdomen, "Oops… sorry…"

We continue in silence towards the canteen. "Hey, um… Astrid?"

"Yes?"

"I… um… would you like to have dinner at the Officer's Mess Hall? Something a little more high-class… my treat…"

"Sir, are you asking me out?" Smirking, I ask teasingly.

"Uh… ah…" He awkwardly stammers, not knowing what to say.

"Ha ha… if you say so, Jack," ending his misery, I accept his offer. Leaning in, I seal the deal with a light, chaste kiss on the lips. Pulling back, my heart warms at that cute, awkward look on his face. I turn away and walk towards the in-camp restaurant.

"Anyway, I still haven't gotten back at you for having your face in my 'assets' last time." His face turns even redder at the mention of that little 'accident' we had weeks ago, obviously surprised and embarrassed that I still remembered.

"But… I already apologized… didn't I?" Chasing after me, he sputters his reply, tongue-tied.

Ah, the world is just awesome.

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The World Is Just Awesome - Copyright Discovery Channel.

A/N - And that's a wrap! Many thanks to all those who have followed this story to the end. Your support has been greatly appreciated, it's what kept me going throughout. For those who can't get enough, more will come. I'm planning a series of one-shots just to flesh out a few ideas that never made it to this final cut of How To Train Your Dragon: 2015. Once again, thank you for your reviews and encouragement, and do look out for future releases!

_**Warmest Regards,  
DisneyAnime91**_


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